


Where the Road Leads?

by lightmyway



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Awesome Charlie Bradbury, Bisexual Dean Winchester, College, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Gay Sex, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Journalist Castiel, Legal Guardian Dean Winchester, M/M, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Photographer Castiel (Supernatural), Pining Castiel (Supernatural), Refugees, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Supportive Castiel, Teacher Dean Winchester, War, Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2020-03-20 01:23:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 123,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18982327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightmyway/pseuds/lightmyway
Summary: Castiel took off on his motorcycle at eighteen, ready to let the road take him where it wanted.  That plan changed when he met Mary Winchester at a protest rally and she opened his eyes to the power of the camera around his neck.  He never expected he would move in with her two boys and change his entire existence a few years later, stepping back from his up and coming career.Dean never expected to be, for all intents and purposes, a parent at the age of eighteen.  One with a mortgage and a mound of medical bills.  He also never expected that the mysterious young man Mary introduced them to just a few years prior would be his lifeline.  That Cas would dedicate himself to being there for both Winchester boys.Dean, also, never expected Cas to leave.  He never expected that Cas would return to the career he left behind and fly off to some of the most dangerous places in the world.  He certainly never thought it would be because of something he let happen.Will Dean find Cas?  Will he be in time?  And will he be able to bring Cas home?





	1. Castiel Finds a Home

**Author's Note:**

> The plan is to update this weekly, but I'm also writing another fic so there may be times I am a few days late.

The young man collapsed in his arms when they were finally alone. The house was eerily quiet after the long day of chatter. The lights were all turned off except for a lamp at one end of the couch. The shadows cast across the wall were ominous and fitting in the aftermath of the day’s events. The lives of the three people currently in the small, cottage-like home were irrevocably changed, and the young man could no longer bear the pressure. The older man felt the dampness soaking through his black dress shirt. He had removed the tie hours ago, tired of feeling strangled and being reminded of the person he used to be. His life now was wholly different, and it was due in no small part to the woman they mourned that day. She had been a spark in his once dull, colorless life, and now she was gone. He knew his own pain over her loss was dwarfed by the pain of her two sons. One of which was tucked in bed upstairs. The other was the young man in his arms. Pulling back slightly he gripped the young man by the biceps and helped direct him to the couch. He gingerly sat down next to him and immediately found himself with a head buried in his chest.

A feeling of intense protectiveness swept over the older man. He had watched over the last few days as the young man stood solid, acting vastly older than his age. Supporting his brother through his grief and taking care of every detail, except his own sorrow. And now in the darkened, quiet home, he finally gave in to his own feelings of despair. Relinquishing the burden and responsibility and letting himself be supported and cared for as he deserved. The older man rubbed circles on his back and whispered words of comfort. He had known what he would do from the moment she died, but this moment solidified it. He belonged here. He was needed here. And he would do his very best to protect and serve the two young men who had become family to him over the last two years. He would honor their mother who helped push him to use his talents to fight the good fight. The thought brought to mind the day they met.

_Standing on the edge of the crowd, sign in one hand, camera in the other, he more observed the protests than participated. He sensed someone watching him. When he turned, he saw her marching toward him. Each step determined. She stopped directly in front of him and said, “Any good with that thing?” He stared dumbfounded, mouth gaping, unable to form a coherent response. She repeated her question. This time reaching out to point at his camera. He shifted back quickly. The camera was worth a small fortune, and it was the only thing he had left of his previous life. It was the one thing he walked away with when he said goodbye to his family._

_Unwilling and unable to live the life they expected of him, the day he turned eighteen he stuffed a small bag with some clothes and a couple of books. He loaded up his camera bags and took off on his motorcycle. It was fitting to make his exit on the first sign of his rebellion. The Harley-Davidson Roadster had become the symbol for his mother’s disappointment in him. The leather jacket and pierced ears were the affront to her sensibilities. The picket signs were the stab in the heart of her conservative image. As he drove away that day, he realized for the first time in years his mother and him shared the same feeling, and it was relief. “I wasn’t going to touch it,” he heard through the fog of memory. He shook his head to clear it, taking in the woman standing stock still in front of him. “What?” he asked still dazed. She smiled at him, bright and shining, and he found himself pulled in by her magnetism. “How about we start over?” she had said then, and he couldn’t do anything but nod. After their exchange that day, he discovered who he truly was and who he wanted to be going forward. The camera became his right arm and his conscience. It was ever-present and demanding. He learned every nuance and the true value of a photograph. She taught him that, and he would forever be grateful.  Even more he was grateful for the care she showed a wayward young man, introducing him to her boys and welcoming him into her home between his travels._

Nearly four years later and it was time to repay her for her unending support and kindness. It was time to stop the traveling, and it was time to step up and be the man she needed him to be in her absence. She never came out and asked him directly as she lay in her hospital bed, but he knew from the despair in her eyes what she wanted. He recalled the last words he said to her, _I won’t leave them_ , and the tiny smile and breath of relief he received in return. And so in this moment in the darkened room with her eighteen year-old son in his arms, he promised him the same. Whispering over and over that he would stay. That he would not be alone to raise his brother. For as long as he was needed, he would stay at his side. The sagging body and heavy sigh were the only answer he needed. Relief seemed to be the theme of the major moments of his life. This time the relief seemed even more profound as he took the brunt of the young man’s weight.

They remained curled up on the couch until the young man shifted back with pink cheeks. Wiping his face, he said, “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for Dean.”

“Come on, Cas. I just got snot all over your nice shirt.”

“Dean,” Cas scolded, “it’s just a shirt, and you needed to let that all out. You’ve kept it in for too damn long.”

“Yeah, well, not like I had a choice. Someone had to deal with all this shit and take care of Sammy.” Dean stood up and stomped across the room, heading for the kitchen. “Not like my deadbeat, drunk of a dad would show up and be responsible for once in his life.”

Instead of responding, Cas waited for Dean to return to the living room. Beer in hand the young man stepped back into the room. Cas shook his head but didn’t say anything. “Don’t bother,” said Dean, “I know it won’t help anything, but right now I don’t give a shit.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, Dean.” The green eyes staring back at him were filled with gratitude and a deep sadness. It pained Cas to see it, and he said, “Come sit down. You look like you’re about ready to fall over.”

Ducking his head, Dean made his way back over to the couch. “Thanks, Cas.” Once he was seated, he looked straight into Cas’s deep blue eyes. “And I don’t mean just for tonight. I don’t know how we would have got through this without you.” Unable to find the words to respond, Cas stayed silent, their eyes still locked together. After a while Dean began to fidget and bite his lip. Knowing the young man so well, Cas waited for him to say what was on his mind. It didn’t take long before Dean exhaled loudly as he said, “What did you mean?” Cas tilted his head in question, so Dean clarified. “You said you were going to stay, what does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I’m here for as long as you need.”

“Um…how is that going to work? Are you going to live with us?”

“If that is what you and Sam want, then yes.” Dean’s mouth fell open. “Dean, your mom made sure to name you Sam’s guardian in her will, but an eighteen-year-old raising a fourteen-year-old on his own…”

Dean’s jaw clenched, and he gripped the edge of the couch. “What? You think I can’t do it.”

“No that’s not it at all. Mary believed in you and so do I, but your dad is still out there and if anyone got wind of it…well let’s just say you may need some back-up and having me around would help financially.”

The young man deflated as all the fight left him. “Yeah, that sounds good. I hadn’t really thought about Dad other than the usual, pissed off that he is a shitty waste of space. And fuck I haven’t really had time to look at the bills and all that crap.”

“Don’t worry, Dean, we’ll take care of it together, but not tonight.” Cas stood up and stretched, his lean body stiff and exhausted from the tension of the last few days. “Tonight, we need sleep.” When he lowered his gaze, Cas found Dean watching him .  Dean's eyes were drooping, and the beer in his hand was long forgotten. Cas took it out of his loose grip and set it on the dark, battered coffee table. He took Dean’s hand and pulled him off the couch. “I’ll see you in the morning,” Cas said as Dean walked toward the stairs. The young man turned to face him, watching as Cas pulled out the sofa bed. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Okay, yeah, night, Cas.”

Once he heard Dean shut his door, Cas laid back on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. His mind filtered through the steps he would need to take over the next weeks. He already had the preliminary steps done for opening the studio, and he knew Charlie would be well on her way to finalizing the website before the new day dawned. His friend was a night-owl through and through. She rarely saw her bed before the early morning hours, but she assured him she could make the change to day-time work. When he had given her a questioning look, she glared at him, sweeping her red hair into a ponytail, as she said, “Don’t underestimate me, Cas.” He had smiled at her before saying, “Never.” That was where the conversation had ended as Charlie buried her head in her laptop. His mind drifted from Charlie to money. He knew he had enough to last himself for at least a few years, even if the studio failed to make a profit, but how far would it stretch for three people. He had promised Dean he would help figure it all out tomorrow, but his brain would not let it go.

Giving up on sleep, Cas slipped out of the bed and walked into the kitchen, turning on the lights. He shut his eyes at the onslaught, letting himself adjust before opening them again. The desk tucked into the back corner was covered in paper. He walked over and flopped down in the chair. The mortgage was the first priority, followed by the utilities. He would need to keep them paid until Mary’s life insurance paid out. The small amount of savings Mary had went to pay for her funeral costs, so the boys had no liquid assets. Dean’s job provided some income, but since he was still in high school, he only worked about fifteen hours a week. And Cas would be damned if he dropped out four months before graduating. Their argument when Dean suggested it was volatile. Mary was equally livid when Cas told her about Dean’s suggestion. Three days before she passed away, she confronted Dean about it, weeping when Dean finally relented, promising her he would finish school.

With the memory hanging over his head, Cas flipped through some of the documents. The hospital bills had just begun to arrive and he knew they would be extensive. Mary had health insurance, but the coverage was minimal. He shoved those bills aside. They were not the priority at the moment. His hand, instead, clasped Mary’s will reading it in its entirety. The boys were her sole beneficiaries, and Dean was given control of the assets until Sam turned eighteen. Cas smiled when he thought of Mary’s faith in her son. Not everyone would trust a high school student with the responsibility of raising their brother and managing a home, but Mary was adamant.

In the last weeks, Cas came to understand just how accurate that faith was. Through her illness, her death, and her funeral, Dean took charge. Cas chuckled at thoughts of himself at eighteen. Out on his own, no responsibility but to himself. It was a stark contrast to the pressures Dean was facing. The laughter dissipated. Cas leaned back and ran his hand down his face. He sighed into the quiet of the night as he looked down at the desk. There was nothing more he could do tonight. Shaking his head, he stood up and walked back to the living room. His eyes fell on the mess of blankets on the bed. He stood there for several seconds thinking about his life now. He hadn’t stayed in one place longer than a month or two since he left his childhood home. And Mary was the only reason it ever happened. She insisted he park his motorcycle during the worst of the winter months. Sometimes he stayed with her and the boys. Other times he stayed with Charlie in her small, brightly decorated apartment, tucked above the now closed comic book store.

Charlie kept telling him it was fate. He scoffed at her but couldn’t help wonder how things fell into his lap. Just when he needed a place for a studio, one became available. And not only was the price of the building reasonable, his friend and now employee lived on the upper floor. Since he wasn’t under contract to any of the news agencies or publications he took assignments for, Cas could easily walk away from those endeavors. Not knowing what the future held for him, he decided he should still formally apprise them of his decision. He hoped by doing so he would not burn any bridges. His publisher was a different story. He knew he needed to work with them to find a way to fulfill his contract despite the changes in his life. It was pressure he never thought he would have in his early twenties. When he rode away on his motorcycle, leaving his home in the dust, he never envisioned himself with a career. Let alone one with such diversity and responsibility. To tell other people’s stories, to do them justice was, he felt, his duty, but it was also his greatest honor. It was why he traveled so extensively. He went where he felt he was needed most. Whether it was a protest on a reservation or a women’s march, or migrants at the border or a civil war in Nigeria or Syria, Cas was compelled to document the impact on those involved.

The place he was needed most now was with Sam and Dean. Not once did it cross his mind to leave them. As he took to his bed, he realized he needed to make sure they knew he was here by choice. That this is what he wanted and not what was demanded of him. If Dean was left feeling like Cas gave up his life to help take care of them, he would be riddled with guilt and shame. It was a trait Dan possessed in spades, and Cas had seen it in the young man almost from the beginning. Easing that guilt was almost as important as relieving some of the responsibility. Shutting his eyes, Cas felt a wave of fear wash over him. He wanted to believe he was up to the task but doubt had a way of creeping in, especially in the quiet, dark of night.

 

Cas woke to the sound of Sam’s heavy feet on the stairs. The teenager was going through a dramatic growth spurt and had difficulty dealing with the changes. His stumbled over his feet and blundered into rooms with all the grace of a cow on ice skates. Despite his exhaustion, the image brought a smile to Castiel’s face and a small chuckle to bubble up in his throat. As soon as Sam saw he was awake, he practically jumped on the bed. “Are you making breakfast?” Sam asked eagerly. “Or should I just have cereal?” The second question was teetering on whiny, and the serious pout on Sam's face aided in the plea. Cas shook his head and rolled over, pretending to ignore the boy. “Come on, Cas, please. You make the best scrambled eggs.”

“Maybe you should learn to cook them yourself,” interjected Dean as he leapt down the last three steps.

Cas smiled at the younger man before turning to face Sam again. “Dean’s right.”

“You two suck. Is this how it’s going to be now?” asked Sam with an even bigger pout on his face.

With dramatic flair and barely contained sarcasm, Dean asked, “Whatever do you mean, Samantha?”

“Don’t call me that.” Sam stood up from the bed and stomped his feet as he walked toward the kitchen. Yelling over his shoulder, he added, “And I meant, are you two going to gang up on me and always side with each other?  Cause that’s going to royally suck.”

Even though Sam tried to keep his tone light and joking, Cas heard an undertone of worry. It wasn’t going to be easy for Sam to adjust to having Dean and Cas running the house, essentially parenting him. Cas had been so focused on what the change would mean for him and for Dean, he forgot to see how hard it would be for Sam. It’s possible he might not even agree to the plan. Flipping his blankets off, Cas got out of bed and joined Sam in the kitchen. “Sam, I assure that is not the plan.”

“Yeah, right.  You and Dean always spend more time together when you’re here. Hanging out and going places.”

Cas’s eyes were drawn to Dean as he stepped into the room with a sad expression on his face. “Sammy,” Dean said sounding pained.

“What it’s true?”

Pulling his gaze away from Dean, Cas looked at the teenager seated across from him, “Sam, Dean and I are closer in age and have some similar interests. Besides, most of the time you were off with your own friends.”

Sam shrugged as he reluctantly agreed, “Yeah I guess that’s true. But with you living here…” His mouth snapped shut as his cheeks turned red. “Um…ah,” he stuttered.

Dean cut off his stumbling words. “How the fuck do you know he’s going to be living here?”

Sam ducked his head at the undeniable anger in Dean’s voice. Cas knew instantly why Dean was so angry. Sam had clearly been eavesdropping on them the previous night which meant he saw Dean crying in Cas’s arms. Being the big brother, Dean never wanted Sam to see his vulnerability, and now he had. Sam stared straight ahead, refusing to face Dean. “I…um…heard you talking.”

“No, you were fucking spying on us.”

“I didn’t mean to Dean. I swear. I got up to get something to drink, and Cas was holding you.” Dean groaned, but Sam forged ahead anyway. “And talking to you about staying here.”

Before Dean could raise his voice and swear again, Cas said, “It’s okay Sam. We were planning on asking you this morning anyway.”

Confusion settled on Sam’s face. “Asking me?”

“Yes. I would never move in here without your permission. This is your home as much as its Dean’s.”

“Oh.” Sam stared at Cas for several heartbeats before turning to Dean. Silence followed as Sam stared at his older brother.

Dean, impatient as usual, broke the silence. “Cas is right. This isn’t just my decision. So, what do you think?”

“How would it work?” The question seemed to take Dean by surprise, and Sam was quick to add. “I mean when Cas stays here its usually only for a few days or a couple weeks at a time.” He turned his head, looking at Cas, as he said, “What about your job?”

Cas took in the unsure look on Sam’s face and the tension written all over Dean’s body. Reining himself in, he swallowed down his immediate response. Spilling all his plans before they had even eaten breakfast was a poor choice. It was going to be a long conversation and would delve into areas no one should have to deal with as a teenager. Cas shook his head as he eyed Dean, hoping to keep him from pushing the topic. He watched as the younger man leaned back against the counter and relaxed his shoulders. Satisfied, he shifted his eyes until they rested on Sam. “Before we get into all that how about I teach you to make my scrambled eggs so we can eat breakfast. Then we can talk.” Sam didn’t look exactly happy, but he did nod his assent.

It wasn’t long before they sat down at the small kitchen table, marked by years of use. The bacon, eggs, and hash browns disappeared rapidly. Cas and Dean lingered at the table finishing their second cups of coffee while Sam loaded the dishwasher. Cas saw the questions in Dean’s eyes. Part of him desperately wanted to reach out and take the younger man’s hand, but he refrained, unsure how Dean would react to the contact. Instead, he tried to give him a reassuring smile. Dean returned the small smile before finishing his coffee. He stood up and put his cup in the dishwasher. Both boys came back to the table and sat down heavily. Cas sighed, steeling himself for the conversation to come. He approached Sam’s earlier questions first. “Sam, I am opening a studio here in town and am taking a break from my freelance work. The only issue remaining is my contract with my publisher, and I will be meeting with them at some point. So, I'll be here in town no matter your decision about living arrangements.”

Dean’s eyes grew comically wide as he stuttered, “How…when…”

“I started working on it over a month ago. Everything just fell into place over the last two weeks. The store below Charlie’s apartment closed, and I bought the building. She and I have been working on the business plan. We’ll open inside a month if everything goes okay.”

Sam smiled as he practically bounced in his seat. “That’s awesome.”

Dean’s face didn’t show even the slightest enthusiasm, in fact he looked a bit stricken by the news. “What kind of studio, Cas?” he asked, voice strained and cracking.

“Photography, of course,” Cas said, ignoring the true nature of the question.

“You know damn well that is not what I meant.”

Sam’s head snapped back and forth between the two men “I don’t get it. What’s the problem, Dean?”

Just as Cas said, “There is no problem,” Dean said, “He’s giving up his career to take graduation pictures, wedding photos, and shit like that.” Cas held up his hand to try to get Dean’s attention, but the younger man refused to stop. “Which he has never wanted to do. Don’t even try to deny it. That is not the kind of photographer you are. Mom explained photojournalism to me when I asked why you travel so much. And we’ve seen your work and read your freakin’ Wikipedia page, Cas. You can’t bullshit your way out of this. You’ve been in National Geographic for fuck’s sake, and on the front page of God knows how many newspapers. You won your first award when you were twenty.”

Sadness enveloped Cas. Dean’s reaction was worse than he expected. He certainly never expected a recitation of his accomplishments. It didn’t occur to him that Dean would know so much about his career. They rarely discussed it when he visited. Being at the Winchesters was his respite from the stress of his job, so Mary had always tried to steer the conversation to other topics. He should have known she would tell the boys about it, especially if they asked. He closed his eyes as he held up his hand once again. Silence filled the room until Cas said, “I’m not going to bullshit you, Dean. Yes, the studio will offer those services. I will be hiring another photographer to help with that side of the business.”

“Yeah and what will you be doing?” Dean asked wryly.

“Doing commissions and selling my own works.” Dean’s expression was still hard so he added, “I am not giving up my career, Dean. I am simply altering it.”

Unable to contain himself any further, Sam said, “That doesn’t sound so bad Dean. I mean he will still be a photographer.”

Dean responded with a one shoulder shrug and a frown. “Dean, I wouldn’t even have the career I have without your mom. She was the one who set me on that road. After she was diagnosed, I wanted to be here. I saw firsthand what stage four lung cancer does to a person.” Cas pictured the two women and one man he photographed over a two-year span. Only one was still alive and in remission. They had all been non-smokers in their forties. The growing number of diagnoses for younger, non-smokers was the reason Cas and another photographer were asked to document their journeys. Lung cancer needed to be viewed differently, and he was part of the new campaign to make that happen. He never imagined the disease would strike so close, and that Mary would succumb to it within six months. With that thought, he whispered in a broken voice, “I thought we’d have more time.” No one spoke, all three lost in their own grief. Cas cleared his throat as he stood up and walked over to the desk. He carried a stack of papers back to the table. “I need you to believe me when I say this wasn’t a rash decision. I wanted to be here for Mary and for you. I just didn’t expect she would leave us so soon. When I realized she was…I sped up my plans.” He set the papers down in front of Dean. “Look at the dates on these.”

Dean shuffled through the papers and then pushed them over to Sam. “And this is really what you want?” Dean’s expressive green eyes stared intently at Cas.

Cas held his gaze. “It is.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” asked Cas.

Dean’s lips quirked up slightly. “Yeah, okay. I’m done arguing.”

Sam bumped his shoulder into Dean’s. “That’s a first.”

“Very funny.” Dean rolled his eyes before turning serious. “Sammy, how would you feel if Cas moves in?”

Cas stopped Sam before he answered. “I think we should discuss some details before either of you decide. This isn’t going to be easy, but we have to talk about finances and clearing out your mother’s room. And we should talk about our relationships, and how they will change. I won’t be just a guest anymore.”

“You’ve never been just a guest, but I get what you mean. We'll be sharing this house and the responsibilities which includes Sam,” said Dean thoughtfully as he looked at his younger brother.

Sam slammed his hand down on the table.  “What the hell Dean? I’m not a little kid.”

Cas jumped in, needing to curtail the upcoming argument. “No one is saying you are a little kid, but you are also not an adult. Dean is your guardian. It is what your mom wanted so we all need to respect that decision.” Cas saw the second those words sunk in as Sam visibly shrunk in his seat.

Dean reached out and put his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just never thought of it that way,” said Sam shyly. “Dean, I want Cas to live with us.”

“Sam, we haven’t finished talking about the issues," said Cas, voice laced with concern.

The brothers looked at each other and nodded. Dean turned to face Cas and smiled. “Cas, we can talk about them, but it isn’t going to change anything. We both want you here. I knew it last night,”

“So, did I,” said Sam.


	2. Dean's Fractured Path

“We’re gonna be late,” Dean yelled to Sam as he looked up the stairs. It had become an almost daily occurrence over the last few months. Dean couldn’t decide if it was just teenage angst or because Cas moved in. He steadfastly refused to dwell on the most likely cause. He lived it himself every morning. It was hard to find a reason to wake up and go out into the world now that his mother was gone from it. He had little choice in the matter so he dragged himself out of bed each day, and then forced his baby brother to get up. The once punctual, always eager to go to school Sam Winchester had vacated the building after Mary’s death and was replaced with a surly, fickle teenager. Dean bit his tongue most mornings, and when he couldn’t, Cas would step in and take charge of getting Sam off to school. Thinking of his friend, Dean walked over to the door to see Cas leaning against the car, face lifted to the sun. It was a rare moment these days to see Cas looking so relaxed.

He knew he was responsible for most of Cas’s tension, and it filled him with guilt. The fight two weeks ago slammed into his mind.

“ _You’re too strict with him sometimes.”_

_“He’s my brother and my responsibility. I can’t just let him run wild.”_

_Cas rolled his eyes. “I would hardly call getting a C on a test running wild. If you keep this up, he is going to rebel.”_

_“What does a rich playboy who goes wherever the road takes him know about rules and family.” Dean tried to pull the last word back, but it spilled out anyway. Even before he finished the sentence, he had wanted to apologize, but it was too late. Cas was out the door before the last syllable fell. Dean lifted his hands to his head, tugging at his hair in frustration while berating himself. It’s why he didn’t know Sam had come down the stairs until he heard his brother say, “That wasn’t fair, Dean. You can’t tell him he’s family one day and then tell him he doesn’t have one the next.”_

_Without turning to face Sam, Dean said, “You’re supposed to be in bed.”_

_“Well it’s kinda hard to sleep with you two fighting.” Sam stepped in front of Dean with a pained look in his eyes. “Why do you always push him?”_

_“It’s not like he doesn’t push back. He yells as much as I do.”_

_Sam shook his head. “No, he doesn’t. Most of the time he takes your anger and your insults. He only punches back when you push too far.”_

_Dean deflated, dropping to the couch and putting his head in his hands. The truth of Sam’s words hitting him square in the chest. “I know,” he whispered. “Why does he even stick around?”_

_“Because we are his family. And just because he isn’t going anywhere doesn’t mean you should treat him like shit.” Sam smacked Dean on the arm, and when his older brother turned to look at him, he said, “You need to stop fighting with him about me, and you need to let me have some freedom. I’m not out partying or flunking out of school.”_

_“Yeah, you’re a good kid. I just worry about you, and I don’t want your plans to be ruined because Mom died.”_

_Sam curled up next to Dean. “I’m only fourteen, Dean. I haven’t even started high school yet. I think it’s probably a good bet my plans might change.”_

_They were still curled up on the couch when Cas came back. Sam stood up and hugged him whispering in his ear. Dean watched the exchange and kept his eye on Cas even as Sam walked up the stairs. Cas crossed his arms, holding them tight against his chest, and stared down at the younger man. Dean wanted to get up and walk away, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood up and crossed the distance between them. Standing in front of his friend, he could see the pain he had caused. Cas’s blue eyes were guarded, mirroring his stance. Taking a deep breath, Dean said, “I’m sorry. I should never have said that to you. You, me, and Sam. We’re family. I’m going to try and do better. Go easier on Sam and you.” Cas’s eyes had lightened, and his arms had fallen away. The tension had bled out of his body, and his lips had quirked up in a shy smile._

 

As Dean looked out the door, Cas pushed off the car and turned to face him, giving him the same shy smile he had that night. A strange feeling came over him, and he forced himself to look away. The feeling was lost as Sam slapped him on the back. “Got your cap and gown,” he said as he raced out the door to the car.

“Shit,” grumbled Dean before racing up the stairs. He grabbed the hanger roughly and then sprinted out to the car. He slid into the passenger seat, not his usual spot, but since they were running late Cas was driving, so they could drop Dean off. Ten minutes later, he went to get out of the car but was stopped by a hand on his forearm. “You’ll do great,” said Cas sincerely. “Good luck.”

“Yeah don’t trip or anything,” chuckled Sam.

“Bitch,” snapped Dean angrily, but the smile on his face gave him away.

Sam gave him a cheeky smile. “Jerk.”

As he got out of the car, he was grateful for both of them. Grateful for Cas’s kind encouragement and grateful Sam helped ease his nerves. It was never his intention to give a speech on graduation day. He was sure none of his teachers ever thought he would be selected to give the final speech of the night. Yet here he was with a speech in his pocket and butterflies in his stomach. Usually, graduation ceremonies followed a particular pattern, but the student council and their advisors voted for change. It was why every senior was asked to write an essay to their fellow students. From those two students would be selected to speak at graduation. Dean wrote the damn thing one emotional night six weeks after losing his mother. He didn’t bother rereading it. He turned it in and then put it out of his mind. Two weeks later he was asked to speak. A huge part of him wanted to refuse, but there was this nagging sensation inside his chest telling him to do it. He was still leaning toward no when Cas said, “What you have to say has merit, Dean? They should hear it.” And that was it, the next day he agreed.

The speech in his pocket was a bit more organized than the disjointed rambling of his essay, but the themes were the same. In the staging area, he slipped on his cap and gown and followed his fellow students to their seats. He ran through the speech, staring at his cards without seeing them. The words were already committed to memory. He held them for reassurance, just like the copy on the podium would provide.  When his name was called, Dean took a deep breath and walked in measured steps to the stage. His eyes sought his brother and Cas, scanning quickly. It was Cas’s mop of dark hair he spotted first, followed by the doofy smile on his brother’s face. The familiar sights set him at ease.

_As many of you know, I lost my mother four months ago. I thought of dropping out so I could support my little brother. I’m sure he’s sitting there muttering about how he isn’t little, but it’s a big brother’s prerogative._

Off script already he thought to himself before forging ahead.

_The reality is the second my mother’s cancer turned for the worse I decided to drop out, but a friend of ours ratted me out. As soon as I saw my mother’s face, I was cowed. I knew I was in for it, and she did not disappoint. She lit into me about being irresponsible and foolish. I thought that was going to be the worst of it, but I was so wrong. When tears filled her eyes and she practically begged me to stay in school, I was crushed. I realized I had put those tears there. I promised my mom that day to finish school and kick it in the ass._

Chuckles followed those words breaking the tension of the moment. Dean smiled and tipped his head up to look at the sky.

_And I did it, Mom._ _I wouldn’t be standing here today if I hadn’t made that promise and if I didn’t get the support of my friends. But even more than that, there is no way Sammy and I would have survived these last four months without our guardian angel. I guess I owe Mom for this too because she was the one who brought Cas into our lives. He stood with us as Mom died, and he stands with us today. What I want you to understand from our story is that you are stronger than you think. Sam gets up every day, faced with a brother and a friend as his parental figures. An eighteen-year old and a twenty-two-year old. I don’t know if I would be able to face it with as much grace as my brother. And as for Cas, he walked away from a skyrocketing career to help us, and he does it with a smile on his face, even when I act like a jerk. And me, well I learned how to pay a mortgage and how to get out of bed each day even though my mother will never do it again. Going forward, I want you all to know that life will take twists and turns. Sometimes they will bring darkness, but if in those moments you can find even a flicker of light, you will know you can survive. Our life changed dramatically and our plans may continue to change, but I know that we will find a way to thrive. Because the most important lesson I learned was to ask for help. Whether you ask a teacher, a parent, a sibling, a friend, or even a stranger be willing to reach out and let others embrace you. I promise it will be worth it._

He barely had a moment to realize he had finished before the crowd came to their feet. As he surveyed the crowd, he saw smiles and tears being wiped away. A few chants of Dean arose. He blushed and ducked his head unable to take in the adulation. Despite that, he felt a shift inside himself. It was something he had felt about half way through the speech when he saw some people nodding at his words and others with a blank stare. As the thought came back full force, he knew he needed to find Sam and Cas. He had to tell them.

He ran around looking for them, but they found him first. He was enveloped in a tight hug by his brother. He smiled at Cas over Sam’s shoulder. Cas’s eyes were red-rimmed, but a smile cracked his face. “You were amazing, Dean.”

“Thanks, Cas.” He pushed back from Sam. “Get off me. I have something to tell you.” With the distance between them, Dean got his first look at Sam’s face. His brother was crying. “Oh, Sammy.”

Sam waved his hand, brushing off whatever Dean was about to say. As he wiped the tears away with the other hand, he asked, “What do you want to tell us?”

Thinking they should get out of the crowd for this conversation, he started to usher them away from the mob. Just as they started walking, he couldn’t hold it in and blurted, “I want to be a teacher.”   Sam and Cas both stopped immediately. Dean didn’t realize until he had taken a few steps. When he realized, he turned around and walked toward them. The stunned expression on Sam’s face made him ask, “Is it that shocking?”

“Um…I…” stuttered Sam.

“Of course not, Dean. I always thought you would make a great teacher,” Cas said quickly covering for Sam. “You have taught Sam many things over the years. And these last months, you have taught me how to cook more than just scrambled eggs.”

Sam finally found his voice. “I agree with Cas. I was just surprised.”

“Do you mind me asking what changed?” asked Cas tentatively.

“I don’t know how to explain it exactly. I was standing up there speaking, and it just hit me.” He smiled sheepishly as he blushed. “I mean some of them weren’t even paying attention, but others were listening and nodding along.”

Cas smiled back at him. “If this is what you want, then we will make it happen.”

They started walking again and Dean said, “I know it'll have to wait until Sammy’s done with school.”

A strong grip on his arms halted Dean’s forward progress. He turned to see a stormy look on Cas’s face. “You are going to live your life, Dean. Not put it on hold because of Sam.” At Cas’s side, Sam was nodding vigorously. “He would not want that, and there is no way I am letting you do that. I’ll start working on a plan while you go and celebrate with your class.”

The three of them made their way to the car, eventually joining the cue of vehicles trying to exit the parking lot. The minor league baseball stadium had been filled to capacity for the graduation ceremony as was the parking area. When they finally reached the road, they followed most of the traffic making its way to the high school. Cas pulled up to the building and put the car in park. Dean, hand on the door handle, looked first at his brother in the backseat, then at Cas. His gaze lingered until his hand slipped off the handle. He chuckled as he turned to lean over the seat for the sole purpose of ruffling Sam’s hair. His brother swatted his hand away. When he shifted so he could see Cas, he saw the man smiling fondly at the brothers. It was in that moment Dean realized Cas didn’t regret his decision to stay. Without thinking, he reached out and hugged Cas. It took a second for him to respond, but when Cas did, he sighed, leaning in and wrapping his arm around Dean.

Shifting back, Dean felt a twinge of nerves before laughing it off and clapping Cas on the back. “Be good for Cas,” he said as he pointed at Sam. “See you guys in the morning.” Before they could respond, Dean jumped out of the car and joined a group of his friends making their way to the entrance. Despite the distraction around him, he looked over his shoulder to watch the Impala pull away with its heavy rumble. The exterior of the car gleamed in the wash of the streetlights.  The orange light illuminated the interior for a fraction of a second. His breath caught. Cas had the window down, hair blowing in the wind, and a huge grin on his face. The man turned to wave, and then that smile was directed at Dean. He knew he should be waving back, but his body was frozen. _What is happening to me?_ he thought. The sound of Jo’s voice broke whatever spell he was under, and just in time as the blond fireball jumped in his arms without warning. Shaking off the strange feeling, he carried his friend into the school. He lost himself in the all-night party, laughing and teasing his friends.

 

A bleary-eyed Cas picked him up in the morning. “Did you get any sleep last night?” A gruff grunt was the only answer Dean got. “I’m the one who was supposed to be up all night. What exactly did you and Sam get up to?”

Cas side-eyed Dean while keeping most of his focus on the road. “Sam wasn’t home last night. He went to Kevin’s.”

“Well what wild shit did you get up to then?” Dean said cheekily with a mocking grin plastered across his face.

“Dean,” scolded Cas, “I told you what I was planning on doing.”

Dean frowned in confusion. “You did?”

Cas huffed in exasperation. “I told you I was going to work on a plan for you, now that you want to be a teacher.”

“I didn’t expect you to start it last night. You had the house to yourself. Why the hell didn’t you have some of your friends over?”

Dean watched as Cas shifted nervously in his seat. It was a rare sight to see the man flustered in any way, and Dean could not figure out what could possibly be causing it. He wanted to ask, but something stopped the question from escaping. There were times over the last months where it was better to wait Cas out than push him, and a nagging inside Dean said this was one of them. He waited, but Cas remained silent. When he removed one of his hands from the steering wheel, Dean thought it was time, but Cas reached for the knob on the stereo. Turning up the volume, drowning the silence with the sounds of Black Sabbath. _Yep definitely one of those times not to push,_ he repeated to himself.

It wasn’t until they were out of the car and entering the house that Cas said, “Charlie was busy.”

Dean’s brain couldn’t seem to parse what Cas was talking about and he said, “Huh?”

“You asked why I didn’t have friends over.”

“Oh,” Dean said mind still foggy. Cas’s voice sounded off. Both flat and pinched. “Cas?” Dean asked as his head cleared, “Why didn’t you invite someone else?”

The nervous shifting returned as they walked into the living room. Cas even went so far as to wring his hands together. Dean sensed the lie even before it left Cas’s lips. “Um…they were busy, too.” Dean had a feeling he knew the answer, but he found himself asking it anyway. “Is Charlie your only friend?” Cas’s head snapped up with sad or panicked eyes.  Dean could not decipher which emotion they conveyed. Neither was okay, and suddenly Dean felt awful for asking in such a blunt way. As he contemplated his stupidity, Cas’s eyes flashed with anger. “No Dean,” he snapped. “I was under the impression you and I were friends.” He was out of the room and up the stairs in a flash, leaving Dean standing slack-jawed and staring at the stairs.

“Well, shit,” Dean said out loud. Thinking he was alone, he added, “I’m an idiot.”

“What did you do this time?” asked Sam as stepped into the house and shut the front door.

Dean ignored the question, and instead he asked, “Did you know that outside of us Cas’s only friend is Charlie?”

“Duh,” said Sam as he rolled his eyes. “He’s either here, at the studio, or out taking pictures. When exactly did you expect him to meet a bunch of friends?”

“I don’t know. He talks about a lot of people and goes out to lunch and dinner. I guess I just assumed they were his friends.”

Shaking his head, Sam said, “Clients, Dean. People who hired him. Journalists, editors, publishers. Just because Cas is here doesn’t mean people forgot about him. He may not be famous in the traditional sense, but in that world he is. Not everyone gets a show at twenty-one and sells every piece. One of them sold for something like $50,000.”

“Why the hell don’t I know this shit and how the hell do you know it?”

“I pay attention, and I ask questions. Mom didn’t answer all of them, especially when it came to Cas’s money, but she answered enough.”

Dean stared at his brother with a perplexed look. His mind raced through all of what Sam had said, and he settled on one issue. “So, if he has all this money, why the hell is he so adamant about sticking to his tight budget?”

“Because much of that money is spent or tied up in investments, and some of it is in college funds for the two of you.”

Dean practically jumped at the sound of Cas’s deep voice behind him. He hadn’t heard him open his door or come down the stairs, so he snapped when he asked, “What the fuck? How long were you listening?”

Walking down the remaining stairs and joining the brothers, Cas glared at Dean. Anger dripped from his mouth, “My room is right by the stairs, and you two aren’t exactly quiet.” He leaned against the railing and released a long breath. “I tried to ignore it at first, but I’m not a big fan of people talking about me.”

The brothers both slumped their shoulders and whispered apologies. “Your money is your business. I shouldn’t have said anything about it,” added Sam.

“It’s all right, Sam. It was going to come up anyway when it came time to pay for Dean’s school.”

Everything Cas mentioned about his money came rushing back to Dean. “You are not paying for college for me. No fucking way.”

“You’re right I’m not. Mary is.” The confused looks he received pushed Cas to elaborate. “I wouldn’t have any of the money or my career without her. She was the reason I changed how and why I pursued photography. She was practically my agent so she deserved a portion of the sales. Of course, she was too damn stubborn to take it.”

Dean and Sam chuckled and nodded because if there was one way to describe their mother it was stubborn. “If she didn’t take it then how…?”

Cas cut off the question. “I did it without telling her. I put the portion she deserved in a fund for each of you. And you’re not going to win the argument you are gearing up for Dean. I am just as stubborn as Mary. That money should have been hers, and therefore it is yours now. End of story.”

Frustration and hurt were evident in Cas’s gravelly voice, and Dean decided now was not the time to argue over money. He hoped it would help with Cas’s frustration, but it was the hurt Dean had caused that he needed to fix. And the sooner the better. He turned to his brother with a plea in his eyes, “Sam, can you leave us alone?”

“Dean,” said Cas forcefully.

“It’s not about that Cas,” he said still looking at his brother. “Please Sam I need to talk to Cas.” Sam nodded and bounded up the stairs. Dean waited until the door shut, and he could hear music wafting down the stairs. He stepped away from the stairs and gestured at the couch. Cas followed him and sat down with a slight huff. “I promise this isn’t about the money.”

Cas nodded and said, “Okay, so what is it?”

“I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for never asking you about your life.” Dean bit his lip when he saw Cas’s eyes flash with discomfort. He hated the look and hated that his actions helped put it there. “You just always seem so put together. That’s not an excuse or anything. I should have asked how you’re doing. You know everything about me and Sam. Fuck, you’re always asking us and helping and shit. I’m sorry I didn’t do the same for you.” Cas’s eyes stayed on him the entire time, but suddenly he turned his head. It wasn’t fast enough because Dean caught sight of the tears welling in his blue eyes. The man carried himself so stoically most of the time, Dean was taken aback by the crack in his emotions. The only other time he saw Cas emotional was when Mary died. Dean felt even more like shit and knew he needed to do more. He moved closer to Cas and placed his hand on Cas’s elbow. “Cas, you don’t always have to hold it together, hold us together. We want to be here for you, too.”

Cas nodded once, keeping his head turned away. He stood up, and Dean figured the conversation was over. His suspicions were proven when Cas grabbed his laptop and yelled for Sam to come back down. He retrieved a pile of papers and made his way back to the couch. Sam joined them a second later. Cas launched right in, “Since Dean has changed his mind about school, I looked up what he would need to do. I also figured out the costs. It’s a simple fix at the community college. You will switch from the two-year degree program to a transfer program. You just need to drop a couple classes and sign-up for ones that fit your new program. The math class you are taking doesn’t need to be changed. As far as money, you save by starting out at community college, and there should be enough money between what is in your account and a small amount from loans to easily complete your degree and master’s program once you transfer to a university.”

“You did all this last night,” Dean asked, voice choked with emotion.

“I had time,” said Cas plainly, but a small smile cracked his lips. “And Sam your account will continue to grow, and since I was smart enough to leave the investing to Charlie it does very well.”

The teenager smiled sheepishly at Cas and said, “Thanks, Cas. I can’t believe you did this.” Sam shook his head. “No that’s not true. This is exactly something you would do.”

The accuracy of those words had Dean nodding his head and joining in the thanks. Cas tried to brush it off, but the Winchesters wouldn’t let him. He proceeded to blush as they continued to thank him and tell him he was awesome. The praise finally died down when Dean began to yawn and slump down on the couch. Cas wasn’t faring much better. “Man, you two need to go to bed and get some sleep,” advised Sam. “You both look like crap.”

Cas’s blue eyes met Dean’s green ones. With a silent acknowledgment, they hefted themselves off the couch and stumbled up the stairs. Dean was practically asleep before he hit the pillow. His last thought before his eyes shut was, _I’m going to be a teacher_.


	3. Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is inherently Cas's to tell and Dean's to understand, but there will be a few chapters from Sam's point of view. I felt seeing this aspect of our country was better told through a younger person's eyes, so this chapter was Sam's to tell.

As Sam excitedly entered the high school, he was hit with a wave of melancholy. Saying goodbye to the summer was harder than expected. Part of him wanted to cling to the memories they had made. He didn’t know if he would ever have an experience like it again in his life. One that brought both heartbreak and adventure. He learned about the world in a way he had never before. He thought he understood hardship and loss because of his own life experiences, but Cas opened his eyes to the suffering of others. It was not what Cas wanted when the subject first came up. Cas had tried to negotiate with his publisher for extended time fulfilling his contract. Several times it seemed they were at an impasse. When Dean saw Cas practically pulling his hair out of his head, he pulled Sam aside and hatched a plan. Without Cas’s knowledge and with a little help from a sneaky redhead, they solved the issue. _Well, they thought they had_ , recollected Sam, _until Cas found out_. The best way to describe Cas’s reaction was to say _he lost his shit_.

The argument raged for days. “Sam is too young to go.”

“I’m right here. You two can quit arguing about me when I’m in the damn room.” Sam stood up to his full-height and glared at his brother and Cas. “I am not a little kid. You can’t hide the crap happening in the world from me. You can either let me learn it on my own or you can teach me about it. I’ll learn it either way.”

“Learning about it is different than seeing it up close and personal, Sam. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

Sam shook his head, ready to defend his position, when Dean interjected, “Cas, we’re doing this. If you don’t think Sam should go to a specific location, we can talk about it then, but for now you need to accept that for the next nine weeks we are hitting the road with you. And by the end, you will be able to finish your retro…uh…on homeless children in America.”

Cas tried to stifle his smile as he said, “The word you’re looking for is retrospective.”

“Yeah that,” said Dean as his cheeks turned pink. Dean tipped his head to the side and smiled at Cas, and then they both chuckled.

Since the dark mood in the room had brightened with the laughter, Sam took the opportunity to address a less surly Castiel. “Oh, and Cas, Dean kinda forgot to mention we have some fun things planned along the way. Think of it as our last free summer before he starts college and I start high school.”

Dean seemed to get where Sam was going. “Yeah it can be like a graduation gift. One last road trip before we have to knuckle down. Please Cas.”

“Stop giving me that look Dean. You know it doesn’t work on me.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asked smiling widely.

Cas turned his head until he was facing Sam, only to find the teenager giving him a similar look. “Please Cas,” pleaded Sam.

Cas shook his head. “You two will be the death of me.”

“Is that a yes?” asked Dean as Sam jumped up to hug Cas, already knowing that was a _yes_ in Cas speak.

Five days after Sam finished eighth grade, they hit the road. There first stop was St. Louis, Missouri. They spent one day as tourists, visiting the sights, even going up the Gateway Arch, but on the second day they saw a whole new area of the city. While Cas started his work, Sam and Dean ended up finding one of their dad’s old army buddies. He didn’t recognize the boys because it had been years. Despite the man’s straggly beard and weathered face, Dean spotted the scar across his brow and knew it was Martin. They spent time talking to him, changing the subject whenever Martin mentioned their dad. Eventually, Cas came over with a teenager in tow. The kid said, “Dad, this guy wants to take pictures of us for a book he’s doing.”

After a tense silence, Martin said, “Dean, Sam I’d like you to meet my son, Brian.” The kid was as disheveled as his father and was holding a sign which read, _Will Work for Food_. It hit Sam like a ton of bricks. It was bad enough a veteran was on the streets, but it seemed so much worse that his son was in the same situation. Stuck in his own thoughts, Sam barely registered Dean shaking Brian’s hand. A well-placed elbow from Dean made him offer his own hand to the other teenager. Over the next half hour Cas took photos and asked questions. He gingerly pulled the story of their route to homelessness from Martin and Brian. Martin’s struggle with PTSD and his wife leaving because of it. The downward spiral that cost him his job and their house. Their two years on the street, trying desperately to keep Brian in school.

Several times, Sam found himself fighting back tears. When he looked at his brother, he saw barely contained anger bubbling just below the surface. But it was Cas, nodding with understanding, his entire countenance seemingly unruffled, which brought Sam up short. There was no surprise on his friend’s face, as if he had seen it all before. At twenty-three, Cas understood the world more than most adults twice his age because he didn’t bury his head in the sand. He didn’t look away from suffering. He immersed himself in it. His photos, at times were shot at a distance, but the man did not allow himself the same distance. Sam understood why his friend was so successful, and why he was often quiet and contemplative. His mind was filled with these types of stories. It was a burden Cas carried with him each day, and Sam could do nothing but look at him with awe. Dean noticed the change in his brother and pulled him aside. “What is it, Sammy?”

“I just didn’t really get it until right now. What Cas does and how it affects him. Why Mom was so fiercely protective of him.”

Dean pulled his gaze away from Sam and stared at their friend. “Me, neither.” There was a look of open affection on Dean’s face, and Sam was left feeling like he was missing something. In a flash the look was gone and Sam wondered if he had even seen it at all. The edge in Dean’s voice when he said, “I think they’re finished,” pushed the thought completely out of Sam’s mind. They joined Cas and the three of them returned to their hotel. Dinner that night was a quiet affair as was the rest of the night. Cas disappeared behind his laptop while Dean and Sam vegged out in front of the tv.

The rest of the trip went in a similar fashion. They stopped at the Grand Canyon on their way to visit a migrant camp in Arizona. Sam lost track of how many miles they hiked.  At another stop, Sam was not allowed to go, and Cas insisted Dean spend the day with his brother. The haunted look in Cas’s eyes when he returned was painful to witness. He said little about his encounters that day, only giving them a perfunctory answer about sex-trafficking and forced drug use. Dean made the executive decision to take a few days off and splurge on a trip to Disneyland. It took two full days of roller coasters and the so-called Disney magic to replace that horrific look in Cas’s usual steely blue eyes.

A stop in San Francisco gave them all a new understanding of homelessness in American cities. People with full time jobs, what in many places would be called good paying jobs, living in their cars because of the high cost of housing. Sam couldn’t even begin to wrap his teenage brain around a professor being forced to live in her car with her two kids because her husband was diagnosed with a brain disorder. One in which, not only could he not work, but he also had to live in an assisted living residence. It really sunk in over the first month of their trip that despite having their dad run out on them and losing their mother, they were better off than so many people from all different walks of life.

Crisscrossing the country, they visited Yellowstone National Park and the Black Hills. Sam loved seeing the geysers and Mount Rushmore. Dean complained about all the walking and hiking. “Come on guys haven’t we seen enough of these places.”

Cas gave Dean an indulgent look, always willing to listen to Dean’s complaints. Sam, on the other hand, was not, so he forcefully stated, "We all agreed to visit places we each wanted. It’s not fair that you keep whining when it isn’t a place you picked.”

“I do not whine,” said Dean. The soft chuckle from Cas had both brothers turning to face him. Dean glared at him. “Have something to add, Cas?"

“He has a point. You do resort to whining when trying to get your way.”

A sly grin spread across Dean’s face. “Oh, really,” Dean said as he inched toward Cas. Sam saw what was coming a fraction of a second before Castiel. He tried to warn him, but it was too late. Dean closed the distance between them and dumped his bottle of water over Cas’s head before taking off down the trail. With one quick glance at Sam, Cas took off after Dean yelling, “You’ll pay for that.” Sam followed behind at a slow jog. When he caught up, he found Dean pinned to the ground, panting heavily and desperately pleading with Cas. Sam smiled at the cocky look plastered across Cas’s face. “You are just proving my point, Dean,” Cas said triumphantly.

“Don’t look so smug, asshole,” said Dean as he bucked his hips and knocked Cas off. Within a flash, the blue-eyed man was staring up at Dean. The younger man was straddling him and had Cas's arms pinned to the ground. “Not so cocky now, are you?” Composure unbroken, despite the quick shift in power, Cas simply quirked his lips. Dean burst out laughing, “Man you must be killer at poker.”

“He is,” attested Sam.

“Wait, what?” asked Dean.

Sam shook his head. “I said he is, and how do you not know that?”

Dean leaned back releasing Cas’s arms and looking at Sam. “We’ve never played.” He turned back to Cas. “You played with Sam? Why haven’t we played?” Dean asked petulantly.

“Sam and his friends asked me to play a couple times.”

“And he cleaned us out both times. He’s seriously good.” Dean quirked his head at Sam. “I mean it. Don’t. Ever. Play. With. Him,” said Sam emphasizing each word.

“I don’t know Sammy, I’m pretty good,” said Dean as he stood up, pulling Cas up with him. “I bet I could give him a run for his money.”

“No, you’ll end up running for your money as he pockets it all.”

Dean flicked his eyes from Sam to Cas. “You cleaned out a bunch of middle schoolers.”

Sam covered his mouth trying to hide his laugh. He watched Cas roll his eyes dramatically and then proceed to glare at Dean as he said incredulously, “Of course not, Dean. We played for pretzels."

“How was I supposed to know?” whined Dean.

“And we’re back to the whining,” pointed out Sam. Dean made a dive for him, but Sam took off down the trail before ducking behind a tree still within hearing distance.

Cas smiled at Dean. “Aren’t you going to chase him?”

“Nope, I already got my running in today.” Dean grinned brightly and winked. “And it was worth it.”

“Which part? The running or the getting caught?”

Dean threw his head back and laughed as he put his arm across Cas’s shoulders. “Don’t ever change, Cas.” The older man gave Dean a shy smile. The blush on Dean’s cheeks when he returned the smile made Sam slip further into the woods. The thought of jumping out and scaring them no longer felt right. The moment seemed delicate and deserving of privacy. He loped through the woods coming out near the end of the trail. He sat on a rock and waited for them to join him. It wasn’t a long wait and whatever had transpired between the two men was buried under their typical needling and joking by the time they reached Sam.

They looked up and saw Sam, both giving him a smile. “Ready to eat?” asked Dean.

“Sure, where are we going?”

 

The next day, they drove across the state of South Dakota checking into a hotel in Sioux Falls. It was a long drive, and Sam had plenty of time to think. After getting in the car that morning, he watched Dean step out of the motel room and hand the car keys to Cas without any protestations. There was no gesturing at the car or swinging of his arms. Instead, his eyes remained locked on Cas as he gave him a slight smile. The sight made Sam’s mind drift to the moment between Dean and Cas on the hiking trail. It wasn’t the first time Sam felt he shouldn’t intrude on them. There seemed to be a softness to his brother when he thought he was alone with Cas. The usual bravado and snarky humor were absent and were replaced by a much more vulnerable version of his brother. Sam began to wonder which version was real, and why Cas was the one to see this other side of Dean. His reverie was interrupted when they joined him in the car, and Cas began to explain the plan for the next few days.

His thoughts and the laughter of the previous days faded into the distance after they arrived at the shelter. The first person they met was a high school senior.  It didn’t take long before she was spilling her story to Cas.

“I was all set for this summer to be hard because I aged out of the food program. But Dave over there,” she gestured at a tall, skinny kid across the room, “told me what he did and I copied him. Flunked a few classes and got assigned summer school to get the free lunch.”

Without thinking, Sam blurted, “What?”

Cas grabbed Sam’s arm as he answered for Rebecca. “It is not uncommon, Sam. There are all kinds of drastic measures people take when they are hungry or cold. Some commit petty crimes, so they can spend a night or two in jail. That way they get out of the winter weather and get three meals a day.”

Rebecca nodded at Cas. “I’ve never done that myself, but a few of the people here have.” Cas asked if she could introduce them to the others, and she graciously agreed. Cas spent time talking to each person and taking photos. Sam and Dean ended up talking with Rebecca while they waited for Cas to finish up his work. After leaving the shelter, they ended up back at their motel. “How common do you think that is?” Sam asked Cas.

“More common than anyone wants to admit,” answered Cas sadly. And of course, he was correct.

They found similar stories as they crossed Minnesota and Wisconsin. By the time they reached Philadelphia, they were ready for another break. They spent time visiting all the historic sites in the area before turning south seeking out the stories of people living in poverty stricken rural counties.

By the time they were headed back to Kansas, Sam had a greater appreciation of the vastness of the United States, but also a deeper understanding of its underbelly. He knew he would never be the same, and the career path he chose would involve helping those less fortunate. Cas was already doing his share by highlighting their lives for all the world to see, and Dean was going to become a teacher, dedicating himself to bettering kid’s lives, and Sam was determined to follow in their footsteps. Walking in the school doors, Sam decided he would not wait to start on that path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I moved from a rural area to the city with my teenage kids, they experienced what Sam did. They knew of homelessness but witnessing it on a daily basis changes one's understanding. Our city is one that works hard to provide services and dignity, and therefore has become a mecca for those seeking shelter. People come from all across the US to join the large number of homeless people already here. Some of the stories Sam hears are stories we have heard personally.


	4. Cas's Eyes Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos. Comments are always welcome.

The front door flew open, and Dean rushed in waving something in the air. “Cas, I did it.” Before he could say a word, Dean thrust the paper in his hands. Cas looked down and saw the university’s letterhead. His lips quirked up into a small smile which only increased as he began to read. The acceptance letter Dean received was an achievement all its own, but to receive a scholarship from the university was amazing. It had been a long shot at best, yet somehow Dean had done it.

“I am so proud of you. You deserve this for how hard you've worked this last year,” declared Cas as he pulled Dean into a hug. “This means you can start winter term.”

“I know,” mumbled Dean into the crook of Cas’s neck. His lips barely grazing the skin.

Cas’s breath caught, and his heart raced. He pulled back quickly to put some distance between them. He tried to school his expression, hoping Dean did not sense his strange reaction. “You should go tell Sam. He’s in his room.”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder before taking off up the stairs yelling, “Sammy, guess what?”

Whatever small measure of composure Cas had found to send Dean upstairs was gone the instant he was alone again. He couldn’t catch his breath, and his chest ached with his feeble attempts to simply inhale and exhale. Despite his discomfort, he knew he needed to escape the confines of the house. He rushed out of the living room and through the kitchen until he practically flung himself out the back door. When he reached his favorite spot under the large maple tree, he dropped to his knees, hands fisting in his hair. “No, no, no,” he said desperately. His mind didn’t stop there. It started tormenting him with images and phrases. _You already knew. He is a man now. Nothing stopping you. You want him._ He tried to block out the inappropriate thoughts by drowning them in other phrases. _Dean is my friend. He is too young. It wouldn’t be right._ The problem was his conscious self knew Dean was no longer a kid. He hadn’t been in a long time, and now Dean’s body matched the man he had become. Even though he worked hard not to look or to notice, he had found his eyes drifting over Dean’s broad shoulders and strong back.

Looking at an attractive man, even if it was his friend was one thing, but feeling those muscles ripple in his arms was a different story. He didn’t want to voice it, but there was no denying his arousal when Dean hugged him. Disgusted with himself, he tugged his hair until his scalp ached. “This was not supposed to happen,” he mumbled as he lifted his head to stare up into the expansive blue sky. He chuckled darkly at his own foolishness. Because if he was honest with himself, he knew this day was coming. He admired Dean more than any other person he met in his life. He cared for the younger man and wanted the best for him. He was willing to sacrifice his own wants to help him fulfill his every dream. Charlie had warned him, but he scoffed at her. Thinking irrationally that somehow Dean would forever stay the slim teenager with the baby face he first met. He always seemed so much younger than Cas in those early years, so different than Cas at sixteen. Cas hadn’t looked like a pimple faced teenager since early in his junior year. What with the permanent stubble and hard eyes, no one mistook him for a high schooler. It’s why no one questioned his age when it came to his career. He just gave off the air of someone who had lived a long existence. When Cas met Dean, there was a youthful ease in his countenance. After Mary’s death that had changed. The usual smirk or smile was replaced with sharp edges as was the youthfulness of the young man’s jawline and cheekbones.  

It was undeniable. Dean had become a gorgeous man in the last year. And Cas knew he was sunk. He was already attached to Dean, and now he could no longer deny his attraction. He didn’t want to think about it, but the word came anyway. Love. It punched him square in the chest, sending him reeling anew. Panic once again took over his body. Shaking, tears welling in his eyes, he took ragged breath after ragged breath until the last vestiges of panic began to ebb.  Cas sat up straight. He squared his shoulders and clenched his jaw. He replaced the quaking young man crying under the canopy of a maple tree with the one who stood strong in the face of danger with only his camera to protect him. He reminded himself he faced worse than loving someone he couldn’t and shouldn’t. Loving someone who would never love him back. As he stood, he shoved it all behind the wall in his mind. The one that contained any and all thoughts of the family he left. The one that hid his waking nightmares, the images of bodies, broken, bloodied, starved… And now love would join them. It seemed wrong to put it with destruction, but in the next breath he realized it was its own form of destruction. It belonged in a place with so much pain.

After boxing up his emotions and wiping his face, Cas walked back into the house. Dean was standing in the kitchen with a strange look on his face. The letter was still in his hand, crumpled in his tight fist. Cas tried to look away, not wanting to think about Dean’s demeanor and what it meant. He tried to think of something to say, anything to distract from the uneasiness in the room. Even with words on the tip of his tongue, Cas could not deflect what he already knew. Dean had been watching him. He didn't know for how long or what precisely he saw, but clearly it was enough to trigger the discomfort permeating the room. Brushing off his own nervous tension, Cas said, “We should go celebrate.” He walked briskly across the room, headed toward the living room. “I’ll call and invite Charlie. You should invite some of your friends. My treat.” Without waiting for a reply, he walked to the foot of the stairs. “Sam, we’re going out to celebrate Dean’s news so get ready.”

“Where are we going?” yelled Sam.

Normally, Sam wouldn’t care, but recently he had started being concerned with his appearance and what he should wear to certain places. Cas chuckled at the thought of Sam changing clothes several times just to go out to eat. “It’s up to Dean.”

“We should go to that Italian place we went to last month,” suggested Dean as he came to stand next to Cas.

Cas gave Dean a slight smile and nodded, “Whatever you want, Dean.”

“Sammy, we’re going to Giorgio’s,” Dean yelled as he began texting.

 

The restaurant had to push several tables together to accommodate the large group who arrived to celebrate Dean’s good news. Cas kept to himself at one end of the table. He observed the group, only joining in when Charlie pulled him into the conversation. He saw in that moment what the future held. It was several years away, Cas knew, but that didn’t make it anymore inevitable. At some point, Sam and Dean would not need him anymore. Fulfilling his promise to Mary had a shelf life. Sam would be done with high school in a few short years, and Dean would finish college at around the same time. He wanted desperately to table those thoughts for later. He needed to enjoy the time he had left with the Winchesters. He watched Dean, a smile permanently etched on his face. He saw him throw his head back in laughter. Sam, at his side, rolled his eyes at his brother good naturedly, eventually joining in his laughter. He wanted so badly to join in their joy, but melancholy had settled over him. He plastered on a fake smile and picked at his meal. He barely ate anything by the time the others were finished. He paid the full bill, despite several protestations from the assembled group. It was fitting that after they exited Cas found himself driving home alone. Dean left with his friends. Sam got a lift from Charlie. Cas knew they explained where they were going and why, but he was too lost in his own mind to retain the knowledge.

He walked into the darkened home and sat down on the couch. He didn’t want to see the homey touches and well-worn furniture of the only place he had ever felt truly at home. The problem was it would never truly be his home. Dean or Sam would someday fill this house with a family of their own. Or perhaps they would sell it in favor of finding homes of their very own. Cas laid back on the now familiar couch and closed his eyes. He swallowed loudly and whispered to the empty room, “And I will have to go.” Accepting his place was nothing new for Cas. He accepted his life inside his parent’s home and then accepted he no longer fit there. He accepted life on the road. He accepted his role in the wider world. Accepted the life of a photojournalist. He accepted life with the Winchesters. And he supposed he would accept life beyond them. With that last thought, he pulled himself off the couch and found the light switch. He opened his laptop and read through his emails. Despite informing publications he was on what could be called a long sabbatical, they still sent him requests. He wondered if he should start accepting some of their offers. Those with a limited scope and within the states. It had worked for his book on homelessness. And it wasn’t like Charlie hadn’t been suggesting it for the last six months or so.

It wasn’t that he needed the money. The studio was successful, and the sales of his works were extremely profitable. It was the fact the work failed at being challenging, and now that life at home had settled into a rhythm Cas missed the challenge. He stared at the computer screen, not really reading the email in front of him. After several seconds, he forced himself to concentrate on the words. The request before him fit his purview. Any issue that dealt with children peaked his interest. The logistics of this particular offer, however, would take him too far from home. The next few emails were similar. Frustrated he shut the laptop, deciding to table the idea for the moment. Needing a change of scenery, he picked up the car keys. He didn’t often go out, but he wanted a drink and to feel the press of a warm body.

The club was full by the time he arrived. He saw a few familiar people, and after several drinks at the bar, he joined them on the dance floor. They never exchanged names. It was an unspoken understanding. Cas wasn’t exactly sure what he exuded that made it so, but he was grateful. It allowed him to dance freely, touching and grinding on the hard line of a man’s body. By the end of the night, he was sweaty and aroused, his need for touch sated. He always left the club alone. Taking care of his arousal on his own. He hadn’t indulged himself with another man since he moved in with Sam and Dean. At first, he figured it was because he didn’t have time to spare. But that reason no longer applied. So, he lied to himself. He came up with any number of excuses, but it was getting harder to believe his own lies. In the quiet of his bedroom, as he gripped his aching cock, his mind couldn’t lie to itself. His body wouldn’t let it. He knew what and who he wanted. The name that spilled from his lips confirmed it. He lay in bed covered in his own cum, feeling little relief. He wanted another body to be lying next to him. In the aftermath of his orgasm, he felt lonely. Berating himself, he cleaned himself up roughly, fixed his clothes, and left his room angrily.

In the kitchen, he made himself a sandwich and grabbed a beer before heading to the living room. He turned on the tv and flipped through the selections. He needed something to distract him, so he picked a bloody, war movie. He downed the beer quickly and retrieved another one. He forced himself to finish his sandwich before finishing off his second bottle. Leaning back into the couch, he put his feet up on the coffee table. An hour into the movie, Sam came strolling in the door. He dropped into the chair after saying hi. Dean came in a few minutes later, joining Cas on the couch. Cas shifted away, pressing himself into the armrest. If Dean noticed the rapid move, he didn’t acknowledge it.

They watched the rest of the movie in relative silence, only broken when Dean asked if anyone needed a drink. Cas nodded as Sam declined. Dean returned with two beers in hand. His fingers brushed Cas’s knuckles as he handed him the beer. Cas’s first instinct was to yank his hand away, but he forced himself to take the bottle, keeping his hand steady. Dean would surely notice if Cas suddenly started pulling away from his touch. A brush of hands, a squeeze of an elbow, a hand on a shoulder. Even a sweep of a hand down a back were not uncommon. Cas had never shied from the touch and over time had found himself returning them. He would have to learn to endure. Learn to ignore his own wants and needs. It wouldn’t be fair to alter his relationship with Dean simply because his own feelings had changed. The bottle now in hand, he smiled up at Dean and said, “Thanks,” hoping it was enough to cover any awkwardness on his part.

Dean nodded before stepping over his legs and settling back onto the couch. They finished the movie, and Sam immediately got up and headed upstairs. Cas thought about getting up, but Dean stopped him with a question. “Where’d you go tonight?”

“What?” asked Cas.

“I said where did you go. You smell like a brewery.”

Cas let his gaze drift over Dean and then back to the tv. “A club.”

“Who’d you go with?”

“No one,” said Cas a bit too harshly.

Dean shifted until he was facing Cas. “So, you were looking to pick someone up?”

A strange cloud hung over them, awkward and uncomfortable. This was not something they ever talked about. Cas wasn’t even sure Dean knew he was gay. He didn’t hide it, but he didn’t talk about it either. And since he had never brought a guy home, it seemed possible Dean didn’t know. Part of him wanted to change the subject, but another part wanted Dean to know. He found himself saying, “Not really. Just wanted to dance with a good-looking guy.”

Dean didn’t seem phased by his statement. He continued to stare at Cas and then pushed his foot against Cas’s thigh. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Cas heard the double meaning in his words, and it brought a slight smile to his lips. “And what were you up to tonight?”

“We went to the Roadhouse.” Dean’s cheeks turned pink, and he looked away.

“I take it Anna was there.”

Dean shrugged. “Um…yeah…we-”

“I don’t need to know,” Cas said, effectively cutting Dean off. There was no way he could listen to Dean talk about Anna. He heard enough when Dean first met her. He hefted himself off the couch, picking up his bottles and his plate. He felt Dean following him to the kitchen. He hoped it was just so Dean could put his own bottle in the recycling. But it wasn’t.

“Why don’t you like Anna?”

_Fuck, what am I supposed to say to that,_ thought Cas. He closed his eyes and leaned on the edge of the sink. “I don’t know her so how could I not like her.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but it didn’t ring true to his own ears.

“I don’t know. It’s just whenever I talk about her, you cut me off, so I figured that had to be it.”

Cas bit his tongue, not wanting to blurt out his first negative thought. He turned around and faced Dean. “Sometimes you overshare.”

“Oh,” said Dean, cheeks darkening once again. “Yeah, I can see that, especially since you don’t really talk about stuff like that.” He shifted back and forth nervously. “Sorry about that, I’ll try not to do that anymore.”

Taking a few steps, Cas said, “I appreciate that Dean. Now I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted.”

“Oh…ah…me, too. I guess.” Dean waited for Cas before following him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “See you in the morning,” he said as Cas slipped into the bathroom.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Ensconced in the bathroom, Cas took a deep breath before starting his usual bedtime routine. He stared at himself in the mirror until he heard Dean’s bedroom door shut. It was at the far end of the hall and had once been Mary’s room. As he stared, he recalled the long discussions about her room. Cas won out after the room had sat empty for months. He remained on the pull-out couch and resolutely refused to take the room. Dean was the owner of the house, and therefore the master bedroom belonged to him. It took Sam to finally convince Dean with several reasons, first among them being Cas’s status on the couch. Knowing Cas would never acquiesce, Dean relented. Cas moved into Dean’s old room and shared a bathroom with Sam. Looking at himself, thoughts of his own stubbornness brought a wry smile to his lips. He didn’t always win when he came up against Dean’s equally stubborn attitude, but he was glad he had won that battle.

He looked away from his reflection and got to the task at hand. It didn’t take long before Cas was finished and laying in his bed. Thoughts of Dean and what he had done earlier plagued him. The scent of his earlier actions did not help the matter. Unable to ignore it, he stood up and stripped his bed, grateful he had an extra set of sheets. He shoved the dirty ones at the bottom of his hamper. He crawled back into bed and laid on his side, hugging a pillow to his chest. His mind wandered. Thoughts of Anna and his inability to hide his feelings drifted in and out. It was a dilemma he couldn’t see a solution for, and it worried him. The heaviness of his thoughts ushered in a bone-weary exhaustion, and he found his eyes closing. There was a moment of blissful awareness, a sort of freedom, just before he drifted into sleep. It didn’t last through the night as dreams plagued him. Dreams of violence, dreams of loss, dreams of Dean. He jolted awake more than once in the night with panic beating in his chest or with his cock aching. The latter was enough to force him from his bed. Willing his erection away, he quietly snuck down the stairs, his journal gripped firmly in his hand. He stepped out the back door and sat down in Mary’s rocking chair. By moonlight, he wrote. A jumbled mixture. Paragraphs filled with his thoughts and feelings. Lists of places he wanted to go and people he wanted to photograph. The more he wrote about his ideas for work the more a sense of calm washed over him. With each new item, his conflicted feelings shifted toward the back of his mind. One idea in particular sank its teeth into Castiel. Children of war.

He set the notebook aside, sitting back and closing his eyes _. It wouldn’t hurt to begin researching and planning_ , he thought. _I would be ready then when it’s time. When I am no longer needed here._ He let himself feel the sadness of that thought for only a heartbeat before he refocused on the tasks ahead. He decided he would consult with Charlie right away on Monday morning. He felt lighter now that he had a plan of sorts. He opened his eyes and gazed up at the sky as he rocked slowly. He let the quiet of the night ease the last of his tension. He sat there until the warm colors of the rising sun emerged in the sky. He drifted into the house then to start the coffee and prepare breakfast for the Winchesters.

 

 


	5. Cas and Charlie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late. I had a writing deadline I had to meet in the midst of visiting family. Family who insisted I put my computer away. Not that I would have got much writing done around them anyway. Hope you enjoy and thanks for subscribing.

Charlie was ecstatic when Cas asked her to start researching. Cas wished he shared her enthusiasm, but he knew the real reason for this sudden change of heart, and it wasn’t one he was proud to admit. He kept it to himself and tried to let Charlie’s exuberance sweep him along. There were times when it had in the past. A half hour in, Cas realized it wasn’t going to happen this time. He settled a half-hearted smile on his lips as Charlie began asking questions and making lists. The lists aligned with the one’s he had made the previous night, but Charlie insisted on adding details. The day passed relatively quickly, and there wasn’t time for his mind to wander. He was grateful for the small favor.

As they settled down for lunch, _finally taking a break_ , Charlie’s words not Cas’s, Charlie asked the question he had been dreading. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“No reason in particular. I told you I got that email, and it intrigued me.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said, but I want the real reason.”

Setting his fork down more roughly than intended, Cas grimaced. “Do we have to do this?”

Charlie sighed, “You’ve been acting strange for months. It’s like you’re avoiding something, and it’s only getting worse.” She reached out and took his hand. “Cas, I don’t like seeing my best friend like this.”

“Best friend,” huffed Cas with a smirk.

“Yes, best friend, you jerk. What else would you be?” She glared at him and then smacked his hand. “Dammit you almost got away with distracting me, but no dice bucko.”

Cas burst out laughing. It was rare these days, and it felt good. It loosened the vice in his chest. Once he gained control of himself, he said, “I can’t believe you said bucko. Remind me, what decade are we in?”

“Shut it. Now back to my original question. What’s going on?”

The kindness and genuine concern in her eyes didn’t truly surprise him, but it did put a crack in his well-constructed wall. He found himself saying, “I have to plan for when it’s time to leave.” He cringed at the admission, but thought, _at least it was somewhat vague_. Although with Charlie, vague had never stopped her. It had only made her more curious. And this time was no exception.

“Why would it be time to leave?”

“I can’t live with them forever. We will all move on at some point,” replied Cas.

Charlie shook her head. “You won’t just move on from each other, any more than you and I would. You’re family.”

Trying to table the discussion, Cas picked up his fork and started eating again. He resolutely refused to look across the table. He didn’t want to see Charlie’s expression. Or the plea in her eyes. She hated not understanding. Hated being shut out, and Cas had been doing it to her for months. He felt guilt over it but was convinced his feelings should not be shared. They were wrong. Dean was supposed to be like a brother. That is how Sam and Dean saw the three of them. They said it on more than one occasion. Cas’s feelings didn’t fit into this family dynamic. Brothers didn’t think about each other the way Cas thought about Dean. So, despite the need to tell someone, to unburden himself, he knew no one would understand, not even Charlie. “Please let this go,” he implored, with his eyes trained on his plate.

After a beat of silence, she said, “For now.”

Cas nodded once before continuing to eat. Charlie respected his choice of silence for the duration of their lunch. When they arrived back at the studio, Gabriel, the other photographer he had hired almost a year ago, was sitting at the large table stationed along the back wall. Black and white photos hung in a distinct pattern above the table. It was a tableau of Cas’s recent work. In many ways, Cas hated what he felt was an ostentatious display of inferior work. Gabriel scoffed at him whenever he made reference to those feelings. “If I had half your talent, I would plaster my work for all the world to see, and you want to hide these away. It would be a crime to not showcase your work, in your own studio for God’s sake, how can you even think such a thing.”

“You are not me,” was Cas’s frequent reply which only made the much shorter man, who still somehow commanded any space he inhabited, laugh bitterly, shake his head and walk away with a derisive scowl.

Not wanting to start the argument, Cas trained his attention on the display of photos on the table, refusing to even glance at the wall. Gabriel shoved a couple of prints in his direction. “I think these two are the ones you need to use. And before you disagree for the sole sake of pissing me off, really look at them. They capture the essence of what you set out to say with this particular subject matter. Your fans will eat them up, and they will fetch a great price.”

“How many times have a told you it isn’t about the money?”

“Just because you don’t look at the bottom line doesn’t mean Charlie and I don’t. Art for art’s sake is a great idea in theory, but it’s not going to pay your mortgage or mine. These two will cover the art and the money. Cassie this is getting to be ridiculous. I know you miss taking the big risk and spending months of your life delving into a subject, but that isn’t in the cards so this is what you have to do.” Gabriel looked at him intensely before shifting his gaze to Charlie. It was easy to see he was seeking support.

His friend nodded. “He’s right Cas. We need the money, and you need to keep your name out there. Putting these in that particular show is perfect.”

Having heard enough, Cas stormed off, yelling over his shoulder, “Do whatever you want.” He slammed the door to his office. He scanned the familiar room. When he first decorated it, the space felt welcoming. Now it was stifling. The large desk loomed over the space. It was all dark wood and rounded edges. It didn’t suit him in the slightest he realized as he stared at it. Although today the gray walls suited his mood just fine. He chuckled at his morose thoughts. Where had it all changed, he pondered. Life with Dean and Sam for the first six months had been a struggle, but it had still managed to be wonderful. He had fit into their lives, but now he felt distance, ever growing and ever painful, opening between them. He knew he was to blame for seeing it that way. Dean and Sam were simply growing up, and he was the one not adapting.

He felt ridiculous for being the one who couldn’t adjust. He wasn’t the one who lost their mother. He wasn’t the one who had to grow up beyond his years. But maybe, that is precisely what he needed, to grow up and change along with them. He was already taking the first step. Adding another seemed appropriate. The idea had merit, but he had no idea what it would be. Still standing in the middle of the room, he sighed and shook his head. It was that moment when Charlie ducked her head into the door.

“Ready to talk about what that all was?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

She was in the room in a flash, and the door shut behind her. “You never swear unless it’s serious. Cas please talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

Dropping his hands from where they had unconsciously been tangled in his hair, he said, “Join the club. You were right all those months ago.” He walked over and dropped himself onto the leather couch.

“I like being right but could you be more specific about exactly what that is,” she remarked as she took the seat beside him.

Without preamble, he said, “About Dean.”

“I knew it. Shit, sorry. That probably wasn’t the right thing to say.” Her cheeks turned pink, and she smiled sheepishly. “What happened?”

“That’s probably the most ridiculous aspect of this whole situation. Nothing happened. It’s just me and my wayward mind.” It was his turn to blush as he added in a whisper, “And body.” Charlie took his hand encouraging him to explain further. She kept hold of his hand and stared at him with empathy as he described the last few months. When he got to the most recent event, she gasped but didn’t interrupt. It was a kindness he didn’t think he deserved. When he finished, he looked at her and said, “The project isn’t enough. I have to take another step. I need another focus.”

There was a contemplative look on her face for several seconds. It rapidly fled as her face lit up with a calculating smile. “I got it, but you aren’t going to like it. I mean not even a little bit are you going to want to do this, but I think it is what you need.” He braced himself, hoping she was simply exaggerating, which she was prone to do. She squeezed his hand. “You need to start dating.”

It was worse than he thought, and he visibly blanched at just the thought of it. “No, just no.”

“I know you go out to clubs to dance. This wouldn’t be that much different. And if you don’t want to pick up guys that way, I could help you set up an online profile.”

Standing up and walking behind his desk, Cas said, “You were right again. That isn’t something I would even remotely consider doing.”

Charlie remained seated and gave him a hard look. “Yeah, well, you’re doing it.”

And just like that Cas knew he was sunk. There was no arguing with Charlie when she gave him that look. Her mind was set, and she would do it whether he agreed or not. Better to be involved then let her do it on her own. “Fine, but I choose the dating site.” An hour later his profile was ready and displayed much to his chagrin. He wanted to delete it as soon as he saw the finished product, but Charlie held his hands away from the keyboard. “This isn’t going to fix the problem,” said Cas as he tugged his hands free.

“Not with that attitude. You have to at least give it a try. Moping over Dean isn’t getting you anywhere. This at least has the potential to get you a date with a hot guy.”

 

At first, Cas basically ignored the dating app, but after several weeks with no change at home, he relented. The coffee date was nice, but Cas couldn’t find it in himself to accept another one. The next man he met was gorgeous, but he couldn’t stop comparing the color of his green eyes to Dean’s. Obviously, green eyes needed to be out of the equation. The problem was he kept comparing any and everything to Dean. The list of qualities to avoid kept growing. Charlie was close to pulling the hair out of her head or decking Cas, either was a distinct possibility. One day she finally snapped. “This has got to stop.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to put Dean aside and really commit to a date for once. Give a guy a chance.”

Unable to come up with a suitable argument, Cas decided to try it her way for once. The coffee date was, as had become routine, nice, but instead of shutting the guy down Cas agreed to a second date. He wanted this one to be at a place he frequented. The club was packed when he arrived, but his date spotted him immediately. The smile he gave was practically glowing with anticipation. Cas tried to muster up even a fraction of that interest. After a few beers, they hit the dance floor. There was a familiar rhythm to this situation. Cas let it sweep him away. He let his body lead. He enjoyed the physical contact, but as usual, by the end of the night, the hollow feeling returned. Even the kiss couldn’t keep his mind at bay. Even when he deepened the kiss and pressed his date into the side of his car, his thoughts drifted to Dean. After the kiss, Cas surprised himself by accepting a third date. Brian met him at the club again, and the night passed exactly as the other had. Brian soon joined the list of others Cas danced with and never took home. They were all good-looking men. Men his age, but he still couldn’t muster any interest beyond the need for a warm, hard body. The fact that it never went passed a fully clothed grope and grind meant it brought little satisfaction, but Cas had nothing else to give or nothing else he was willing to receive. Even the kisses faded into the distance the longer the online dating went.

Late one night he wondered how long he could keep Charlie at bay. Her questions about his dates grew more insistent and more pointed. Cas found he had nothing left to maintain the lie. He simply deflected her questions. There was little surprise when she confronted him one night on the dance floor. She dragged him from the floor and out into the night air. He avoided eye contact, but she would not be deterred. She stepped into his line of sight no matter how many times he shifted away. He finally relented with a pained sigh. As soon as their eyes connected, she said, “This is not what I meant. This is so not good for you.”

“Why not?” he asked defeated.

“Cas, doing the same thing and expecting a different result never effing works.”

“I’m not trying to achieve any result. Once in a while I need to let go and this is what works.” He knew he failed to keep the sadness out of his voice, when she stepped in and put her arms around his waist.

Resting her head on his chest, she said, “I hate seeing you like this.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “It’s better than what I did the first year after leaving home. This is certainly more me than whoever that person was.” He stroked her hair gently. “I don’t need you to worry about me. I know how to compartmentalize.”

Looking up at him, she whispered, “You shouldn’t have to hide your feelings. No one should.”

“I have little choice in the matter. I have accepted it, and I need you to do the same.” He stepped out of her embrace and took her hand. “Now, let’s go dance.”

As he led her back into the club, she said, rather too loudly, “You can go home with someone every now and again. It won’t turn you into that guy.”

This time his laughter was dark and foreboding. “Oh, for once you are wrong. If I open that door, I will step through it, especially under my current circumstances.” He twirled her into the crowd, effectively ending the conversation. They danced until they were both hot and sweaty. A beautiful, tall, dark-haired woman slid between them at one point. Cas stayed close until the moment he saw Charlie’s eyes alight with interest. He stepped back and nodded at his friend. She tried to protest, but Cas leaned around the woman to whisper in Charlie’s ear. “One of deserves to find pleasure tonight.” Without waiting for a reply, he slipped away, lost in a sea of bodies, knowing she was calling out to him. Slightly tipsy and physically exhausted, Cas chose to head home, hoping he would be able to slide into a dreamless sleep.

It was not to be because a certain green-eyed man was sitting on the couch when he walked in the front door. The lights were out in the living room. The only light filtering in came from the small light above the kitchen sink, casting the room in strange shadows. Cas tried to ignore the odd feeling in his chest and tried to ignore Dean’s presence. He walked toward the stairs with his head down, focusing on each step, which is why he didn’t hear or see Dean approach. He was taken aback when he almost ran into him at the base of the steps. He felt Dean’s frustration. It radiated off the man in waves. As he took in the sight before him, he saw the firm stance and the crossed arms. It reminded him of Charlie and all her interventions. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Cas, stop doing that.”

He didn’t want to ask, but what other option was there. “Stop doing what exactly?”

“Avoiding me. And don’t even try to deny it because I’m not the only one whose noticed.” Cas tipped his head up and stared at Dean, keeping his face impassive. “And the poker face isn’t going to work either,” said Dean. “Not when this is affecting Sam. He asked what happened between us.” Dean scoffed, “The worst part is I had no answer for him, and he didn’t believe me. He thinks I don’t want to admit whatever it is that I supposedly did. But I have no fucking clue. So, tell me Castiel, what happened, what did I do.” The use of his full name made Cas blanch and reel back. “Finally, some emotion, how about you follow that up with some words,” demanded Dean.

“You didn’t do anything. I’ll talk to Sam and make him understand you are not at fault,” Cas said as he tried to step around Dean.

Dean held out his arm, blocking his way. “That isn’t good enough. I want answers, and you aren’t leaving until you give me some. We are friends. Fuck we’re family Cas, and this is killing me.”

Unable to lie while looking into Dean’s eyes, Cas turned away. He ran his hand down his face, bringing back the false calm. “It has nothing to do with you. It concerns work, and I’m sorry for taking that out on you. I won’t let it happen again.”

Cas hoped Dean would simply accept his answer. Dean, of course, couldn’t leave it at that. He asked, “What’s going on at work?”

“You have enough going on in your life,” Cas said firmly as he turned to face Dean again. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle this on my own.”

“But that’s the thing, you don’t have to do that. I…we want to help.”

Shaking his head, Cas said, “But that is not who I am. I handle my problems alone. I have for years.”

Dean flung his hands in the air. “So, that’s it. The great Castiel has spoken and no one else has a say.” As he spoke Dean walked toward Cas. He stuck out his hand and jabbed Cas with his finger. “You’re a fucking hypocrite. _I do it alone. I don’t need anyone’s help_. When have you ever let any of the rest of us do that? You demand and cajole until we let you help,” Dean sneered, lowering his voice and mocking Cas.

“Yes, I do and I know I’m a hypocrite, but it doesn’t change anything. My job is to help you and Sam. Your problems are my problems.”

The heat of Dean’s body drew impossibly closer. “And what your problems don’t matter?”

“No, they don’t.”

“Hate to break it to you, but your problems matter to us.”

“Well, they shouldn’t,” snapped Cas. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he said, “Besides this is only about work.”

Dean reached out and held Cas by his biceps. His grip was tight and firm. “And your work matters. It’s important to you so it’s important to me and Sam. Cas come on. Let me in.”

Half-heartedly, Cas tried to extricate himself, but his mind and body didn’t really want to lose Dean’s touch. It was electrifying and everything Cas knew it would be and wanted desperately. It was dangerous to let it linger, but he let it, nonetheless. “It’s been a difficult few months. I need some kind of challenge and I just haven’t been able to find it. Despite Gabriel’s words to the contrary, I know the photos I’ve taken over the last months lack inspiration. I can’t stand to look at them, but Charlie and Gabriel keep insisting I sell them.”

“Why would they do that if they know you don’t want to?”

Cas sighed and lowered his head. Dean was standing so close, their foreheads touched. Cas’s reaction was immediate. He pulled himself free and backed away a full two steps. He covered his extreme reaction by talking quickly. “We need the money. All of us. There are bills and mortgages. Expenses I haven’t budgeted for. It’s out of my hands, so I am learning to accept it. So really, Dean, there is nothing you can do.”

“Bullshit,” snapped Dean. “Don’t pull away from me and expect me to accept your statement as fact. We are in this together. We made that promise to each other. We run this house and parent together. Those are the facts that matter. And if you are struggling in any way, I need to know. I deserve to know. We are partners, so you have no choice but to accept my help.”

The word partners had Cas closing his eyes on a pained swallow. His body ached from what that word could mean, and his traitorous mind supplied the images. He forced his thoughts back to their conversation, closing the door on that word. “You –”

“No,” Dean said, cutting Cas off. “I’m going to pick up more hours, and I will talk to Sam about what he could do to earn a few bucks.”

“Dean, no. We have always said Sam wouldn’t be burdened with work. I don’t want to be responsible for making that happen.” Cas winced at the quake in his voice. Whatever Dean saw or heard from his friend had him stepping forward and pulling Cas into his arms. “Let me go,” he pleaded quietly.

Dean shook his head and tightened his hold. “Cas, I’ve hated seeing that haunted look in your eyes. Please let me take some of the burden.”

The words were kind and supportive. The touch was caring and heartfelt. It should have made Cas feel better. It should have eased his tension. But all it did was make Cas fall more in love with the man he would never have. He closed his eyes and clung to Dean. He let the pain and sadness envelop him, even as he drank in the man’s smell and his comfort.


	6. Dean, Game Night, and Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you for sticking with this story. If you have any comments or questions, they are welcome. Here we go with a little of Dean's POV.

The house was quiet, too quiet. With three guys, all now over six feet, living together in a rather small house, the place always seemed full and bursting. But lately, silence often crept in, making Dean feel lost in a way he hadn’t since his mother passed. It had been over two years since they lost Mary. One year of community college and two terms down at the university for Dean. It was something he had never expected to happen for him. And if Cas heard him term it that way, he would be hearing a lecture about how it didn’t just happen. He would insist it was due to Dean’s hard work and determination, not luck. He laughed as he pictured Cas’s scowling face. The sound echoed in the silent house. Once his laughter subsided, he realized thinking of Cas always made him smile. They had gone through a rough patch for a few months, but the tension ended just as suddenly as it had come. Dean still didn’t understand what the problem had been. When he let his mind linger on the topic, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something he had done.

The first vision which always came to mind was Cas sitting under the large, leafy tree in their backyard. Pain etched on his face. He wished he could say it only happened the one time, but he spied Cas on more than one occasion on his knees, alone, and clearly holding back tears. The sight made his heart clench and he wanted to run to his friend, but he knew it was the last thing Cas would want. He went to that spot for privacy and that was what Dean could offer, even if it tore at him in ways he didn’t understand. Other images always followed those. Cas coming home from a night out, trying desperately to look pleased. But as good as his poker face was, and Dean had learned just how good that was when Cas wiped the floor with him, his face on those nights was raw and open. There was a level of sadness and shame in his deep blue eyes. Dean never found the courage to ask a single question. His instinct was to flee from the man’s presence, but his feet never listened. So, he bore silent witness to his friend’s anguish, suspecting but never knowing the cause. The smell on his friend gave away his whereabouts. It wasn’t often, but Cas was out at clubs. He knew Charlie went with him sometimes, yet she never came home with him after and Cas always came home, alone.

That fact always triggered Dean’s other observation. The nights out became more frequent when Dean was dating someone. He hadn’t seen the pattern at first, but it became glaringly obvious after they met Aaron. Cas was the one to introduce him to the Winchesters. He was one of the rare people Cas brought into their lives. They had met when Cas worked with a local charity. Aaron was in charge of the fundraising and had approached Cas to contribute several of his works. Dean saw immediately the easy friendship the two men shared, and he wondered at times if it was more. When he asked Cas, the man actually chuckled.

_“No, Dean, we’re just friends,” Cas said after stifling his laughter._

_Dean smacked his arm. “Well, there were a couple times he looked at you like it was more. Sue me for thinking it might be.”_

_“Oh, I didn’t realize.” Cas looked at him with a guarded expression. “He did ask me out to dinner, but I declined. He was gracious enough to accept friendship.”_

_“Why didn’t you go out with him?” Dean asked before his brain caught up with his mouth._

_Cas turned away from Dean before getting up from the couch. Dean read his need to put distance between them even if he had no clue why it was needed. Only after he had crossed the room, did Cas answer, “It wouldn’t have worked, so it was better not to start.”_

_Dean sensed the finality in his words and bit back his next question. He wanted to understand why Cas never dated. Why someone so great didn’t have someone in his life? But he buried those thoughts and said, “It’s good you can be friends. He’s a great guy.” Cas’s jaw clenched and his body shook.   The response was so shocking and gone so quickly Dean thought he imagined it._

Reviewing the memory once again, Dean knew his first thought was accurate. Cas had clearly tensed from his words. The tension had worsened over the next month. The aborted hand movements, the bit lip, the hurried exits became frequent when Aaron was at the house. Cas no longer called Aaron. He wasn’t the one to invite him over, and he barely spoke to the man when Dean brought him home. If Cas wasn’t gay, Dean would have thought it was homophobia. When Aaron had asked him out, he never thought it would affect Cas’s friendship, so he had said yes. It didn’t take more than a week for Dean to see he had misread the situation. Cas basically ended his friendship with Aaron when Dean told him. Their own relationship settled into an awkward dance. It was familiar and close at times, but at others it was distant and uncomfortable. The strain of it had gotten to Dean, and he lost it one night.

_Dean walked into the house needing his friend. His day was awful. It was one clusterfuck after another. His classes were all screwed up and for some reason they hadn't processed his financial aid  correctly. Adding insult to injury his work had cut back his hours. But it was seeing Mary’s long-time friend, bald and thin, that had sent him over the edge. Cancer, the evil, insidious disease seemed to creep into their lives without warning. Cas was the one person he could unburden himself too. He was the only one he allowed to see his vulnerability. There was no one else who could hold Dean up when he wanted to let it all fall down around him._

_A sense of calm came over him when he saw Cas standing at the sink. He stepped right over to him and put his hand on Cas’s shoulder, but before he could even speak, Cas slipped out of his grip. He turned to face Dean and whatever he saw in the younger man’s face had him reaching out. But as what had now become common place, he pulled his hands back before making contact. Dean’s reaction was just as swift as Cas’s. He grabbed his friend’s hands forcefully and said, “What the hell is wrong with you?”_

_Cas stepped further back as he said, “What do you mean?”_

_“What do I mean?” Dean asked angrily. “I mean why the hell do you keep pulling away from me.”_

_“I’m not.”_

_“If you’re not, how do you explain what just happened. You shrugged off my hand and then pulled your own back before you could touch me. And this isn’t the first time.” Dean shook his head even as he continued, “You were subtle in the beginning. I didn’t really put it all together, but now it’s blatantly obvious. And I know it has something to do with Aaron.” The entire time Dean spoke his voice was filled with barely suppressed fury. It was palpable and pointed, and it triggered something in his friend._

_Cas ground his teeth, anger bubbling at the surface, and then it was gone. Dean watched as Cas deflated. In a quiet, flat voice, Castiel said, “You never told me you were interested in men.”_

_Despite the level tone, Dean heard notes of betrayal in it, and his own anger bled away. “I wasn’t keeping it from you.”_

_“Then why? Especially after I told you I was gay, why didn’t you confide in me?”_

_Dean walked over to the table and took a seat. He waited for Cas to join him, and then said, “It took me a while to understand myself. I was just figuring it out when Mom got sick, so suddenly my sexual identity crisis wasn’t so important. I pushed it aside for a long time. It’s only been over the last six months that I have let myself look at it and try to understand it.” Something in Dean’s words seemed to only exacerbate the situation, leaving Cas looking more pained._

_“You could have talked…” Cas’s voice trailed off as he brought his eyes up to meet Dean’s. “Is Aaron the first?”_

_A chuckle burst from Dean’s mouth. “Nah, I’m not exactly the kinda guy who sits and thinks. Action is more my speed. I tested those waters a few times. Pretty sure I figured out I’m an equal opportunity guy.” The mirth in his voice vanished when he saw raw sadness in his friend’s blue eyes. Once again Dean was at a loss, and before he could ask, a mask came over Cas’s face. From one heartbeat to the next, emotion was simply gone._

_“I see,” Cas said. “I’m glad for you.”_

Pulling himself out of his memory, Dean shrugged at the futility of the entire episode because Aaron became a moot point. He took a job with the US State Department and moved to Washington D.C. only one month after the conversation. Adding to that, the brief relationship he had with the man ended two weeks before the move. Dean scoffed to himself at the use of the word relationship. It was more like an extended one-night stand with a few dates mixed in. Those words weren’t quite how he described it to Cas, but they were close enough. Cas’s reaction to the description wasn’t what Dean had expected. He wasn’t mollified by the news. If he had to put a label on it, he would say Cas was offended. It was the first time Dean had felt small in the man’s presence. And it had him wondering once again if Cas had been interested in Aaron and just wasn’t willing to admit it. It would fit. The two men had more in common than Aaron and Dean had. They were the closer in age and shared similar interests. It explained how they met and why their careers centered on helping those in need. Even six months later, Dean still questioned the entire affair despite knowing he would get no further answers from his blue-eyed friend.

Almost as if the thought conjured the man, Cas walked into the house. He smiled at Dean, and all he could feel was grateful. The loss of that smile had hurt and having it back brought peace to Dean’s heart. He didn’t bother trying to understand why Cas’s actions or lack there of affected him so much. He just accepted that they did. Life was easier when he didn’t let himself think too long and too hard on emotional issues. At least that’s what he told himself in the dark of night, alone in his bedroom. Those moments were always strongest after he had fallen apart in Castiel’s arms. Looking at Cas as he approached the couch stymied the path of his thoughts, a path he knew so well. One which brought up the loss of his mother, the pressures of life after, the vulnerability he felt, his refusal to let it show, and his need for the man sitting next to him.

“Hello Dean.”

“Hey Cas. What time did you leave this morning?”

Cas leaned back and put his feet on the coffee table. “It was before sunrise. I needed to get the shot for the University.”

“And did you?” The raised eyebrow and slight smirk gave Dean his answer. “Are you all done now?”

“No, unfortunately not.” Cas closed his eyes and sighed. “This is taking much longer than I anticipated. And I really wish I hadn’t let Charlie and Gabriel talk me into it.”

Dean reached out and laid his hand on Cas’s forearm. There was no move to brush off his hand. There wasn’t even the slightest twitch, so he rubbed his thumb along the sun-tanned skin in an effort to soothe Cas. “You work too hard,” he said gently.

Turning his head, Cas stared at Dean for several seconds. “It’s worth it,” he said seriously before adding on a chuckle, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t reserve the right to complain about it.”

“And I’ll be here to listen to it.” Dean tightened his grip on Cas’s arm.

“I know,” said Cas.

Jumping up from the couch, Dean abruptly changed the subject. “We have the house to ourselves tonight. No teenagers being snarky and annoying. What’d ya say to having some adult fun?”

With his patented dead pan delivery, Cas responded, “I am not watching porn with you Dean. Once was way beyond enough for me.”

“That was a fucking mistake. You weren’t supposed to be here, and it’s not like it’s my fault you sat down and glued your eyes to the TV.” Dean waved his arms around before crossing them on his chest defiantly.

“Hmm…regardless of my actions, you were watching it in the living room where anyone could have walked in on you.” Cas pierced Dean with a commanding stare. “Besides, the rule is no sex of any kind on the couch, and yes masturbation counts, Dean.”

“How’d you know what I was going to say? And don’t call it that.”

Cas smirked at Dean and chuckled darkly. “Considering you were _jacking off_ and breaking that hard and fast rule, it was pretty easy to predict you would try to defend yourself.” Cas put heavy emphasis on the colloquial term while rolling his eyes at Dean.

Hearing Cas talk about sex in that deep, gritty voice made Dean squirm. It was almost as bad as the night they watched porn not three feet from each other. Dean knew he needed out of this conversation. Sex was not a topic they discussed, and the strange feeling inside of him was a pretty good signal as to why it didn’t happen. They were not the slap you on the back and congratulate you on your latest conquest kind of friends. No, their friendship was deeper, a bond of sorts. And Dean did not want to jeopardize it or minimize it by making them simply buddies so he said, “What I meant by adult fun was a poker night? We can invite a few people over and have a few beers, maybe some pizza.”

“If you call it a poker night, no one will show up. They refuse to play me.”

“They’ll come if we change the stakes and add in some other games.”

Cas looked skeptical. “What other games?”

“Video games, Trivial Pursuit, Pictionary, pretty much anything?”

Cas threw his head back and laughed. “They aren’t going to like Trivial Pursuit any better.”

“Quit being obstinate. We have thousands of games.”

“Thousands,” Cas said in a mocking tone.

“Ya know what, I’m sending the text right now.” His phone pinged almost immediately. “Oh and look at that we have our first hell yes.”

“Charlie doesn’t count, Dean. She’d show up if you asked her to come and knit with us.”

Dean took two steps and stood directly in front of Cas. He looked down at him with a scowl. “Remind me why I like you again.”

“My blue eyes,” Cas said as he winked at Dean.

“Fuck you. Are you going to be this much of a snarky ass tonight because I get enough of that from Sam.” Dean tried to sound angry but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Dammit,” he said as he stomped away. “You suck.”

“And I do it very well.”

“Jesus, are you high?” asked Dean with a squeak, cheeks flushing.

Cas, head tilted to the side, stared at Dean. After several seconds, his eyes widened and his cheeks darkened. He laughed nervously. “No,” said Cas. He exhaled heavily and then said quietly, as if he was speaking to himself, “I don’t do that anymore.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped open. This night seemed to have lost all semblance of normalcy, and it was barely six. Dean wondered what other things he would learn about his friend if he ever got Cas drunk. Up to that point, he had only glimpsed Cas when he had a few too many. It was always after he came home from a club and on those nights, Cas always made a hasty retreat to shower. Then, he would disappear into his bedroom. Dean wouldn’t see him until morning, and Cas would act as if nothing had happened the night before and Dean would keep his mouth firmly shut. This time he couldn’t stop himself so he blurted, “You used to get high?”

“We are not talking about this.”

“You don’t get to say that. Not this time. Answer the damn question.” As he waited for Castiel to answer, Dean heard his phone ping, one after another. He pulled it out and read the texts, so far everyone had said yes to coming. He held up the phone, waving it in the air. “And I’d say you better answer now before we have a house full of people.”

“Fine,” snapped Cas. “It was after I left home. I was eighteen and free. Free to do everything my mother frowned upon. It was stupid and dangerous and everything I thought I wanted at the time. I drank, got high, and fucked my way across America. Is that what you want to hear?” Cas's voice went from defiant to almost sad, finally breaking on the question.

Dean was at a loss for words. He hadn’t known what he was expecting, but that was not it. When he met nineteen-year old Cas, he was already dedicated to his work and was never out of control. “I…Cas, man…I’m sorry.”

Sighing Cas asked, “Why are you sorry?”

“I…fuck…I don’t know.” Dean shook his head. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Why not?” Cas asked.  He inhaled sharply as he turned to look anywhere but at Dean.  "I see.  This changes your opinion of me.”

“No it doesn’t. Don’t put words in my mouth,” snapped Dean. “I just wasn’t expecting to learn that about you of all people. You were always so adult.”

Cas frowned, “What exactly does that mean?”

Dean flopped down on the couch. “It means you were already well into your career and mature by the time I met you.”

“That is all thanks to your mother. She made me see how I was wasting my life and my talent, and that’s why I left that all behind.”

Inching toward Cas, Dean hedged, “Can I ask you something?” Castiel nodded. “Were you an addict?”

Cas smiled and shook his head lightly. “No, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t harmful.”

“Gotcha,” Dean said as he bumped his shoulder into Cas, effectively ending the conversation. It was perfect timing because at that precise moment Charlie burst through the front door shouting, “Hello bitches.” On her heels was Jo, Dean’s friend from high school and partner in crime at work. It wasn’t long before Gabriel showed up with Aaron in tow. Dean had heard he was back in town to visit his family but was surprised to see him with Gabriel standing in his living room. Aaron went right up to Cas and started a conversation. Clearly, Castiel was not shocked to see his old friend. He wondered what was up with that but shelved the questions to greet the rest of the crew, Carmen, Billie, Benny, and Victor, making their way into the house. Carmen and Billie were Jo’s roommates and had been coming to these things for the past year. Victor, a college buddy of Dean’s, was a recent addition to the group. Benny, on the other hand, had known Dean and Sam most of their lives. They hadn’t seen him much since he joined the marines, but he was home on leave and was as secretive as ever about what he did in the military. Dean's attempts to get him rip-roaring drunk in hopes he would spill his secrets failed every damn time. And all Benny did was laugh at Dean’s incredulous pout when he crashed and burned.

The quiet Dean had been surrounded by earlier was long gone. The house was filled with laughter, teasing, and good-natured bickering. And it made him smile. This was what he had needed, and by the look on Cas’s face he had needed the same.

Despite Cas’s predictions, they did end up playing poker and per usual he wiped the floor with anyone who chose to join the game. It wasn’t the same for some of the other games. Pictionary was a revelation. Even with his artistic eye, Cas was terrible at the game. He took too long to draw and refused to just blurt out anything that came to mind. Benny whined incessantly as Cas dragged him down with him.

_“How the hell are you so bad at this fuckin’ game?”_

_“Of course, that’s the United States.”_

_“What do you mean you didn’t see the tail? It’s right there.”_

And Cas sat and took it all with the same face he used for poker, which only seemed to incite Benny all the more. His red face and huffing drew chuckles from everyone else, but for some reason it had Billie falling off her chair in laughter.

“It’s not that funny,” said Benny. To which Billie only laughed harder.

Having her distracted worked in Dean and Jo’s favor. Having been in the lead the entire game suddenly, Billie and Gabriel had stalled. It didn’t take long for the high school friends to sweep past them and win. Which of course meant it was time to gloat.

“You two are the worst winners. I’ve never seen anyone act like they just won the goddamn Olympics playing Pictionary,” said Victor. His teammate, Carmen, flung her dark hair over her shoulder in a huff, before joining in on the harassment. “Five-year olds. I think my niece is more mature than you two.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed. “You two are only saying that because you finished last. Come on Jo, we get to pick the next game.” Dean dragged Jo behind him to the game cabinet. When she pulled out Trivial Pursuit, Dean almost shoved it back in before Cas’s words came back to him. He was going to prove that stubborn ass wrong. He nodded at Jo and let her make the announcement. A collective groan came from the right side of the room, but she ignored it, picking up the ‘sorting hat’ as Charlie insisted on calling it. As per the rules, new partners were drawn. There was a moment of contemplation when everyone started assessing the new teams. Aaron and Victor were definitely poised to give Cas and Charlie a run for their money. Dean smiled at Cas, giving him a cheeky wink, and Cas rolled his eyes in response. As predicted it came down to those two teams vying for the center. Cas’s team got their first, but answered their question wrong. Aaron slammed their piece in the center when they finally reached it. It was a question the entire table could answer, and they held their breath as Victor dragged it out before answering Winnie-the-Pooh. Cas and Charlie groaned as they shook hands with the winners.

Victor and Aaron picked the next game and to everyone except Charlie’s utter dismay they chose freaking Mario Cart. “You have got to be kidding me. You know how she is at this game,” said Jo, taking a seat next to the aforementioned redhead.

“This is worse than playing poker against Cas,” whined Gabriel. “She wins every time and then she picks another damn video game, and it goes on and on. I think we need a new rule.”

“I agree with Gabe,” said Benny. Nine heads turned in his direction with their mouths hanging open. “What he can be right once in a while?”

Dean snorted, “Yeah, but we never thought you’d admit it.”

“Well, this time it was needed because I’m sick of losing to the she-devil.” Benny grinned at Charlie, making devil horns on his head.

Standing up from the couch, Charlie crossed her arms and glared at the Louisiana native. “You’re the oldest one here and that was more childish than Dean’s shameless gloating.

Benny winked and in his most dramatized southern drawl said, “Bite me, my lady.” Without warning, Charlie dove on the burly man and proceeded to bite at him. “Fiesty, this one.” Benny let her have her way for about three seconds before he held her tight, effectively stopping all her movements. “I believe we're ready for your pick, Cherie.”

“What about the rule?” said Gabriel.

Still in Benny’s arms, Charlie conceded to the establishment of a new rule. After several minutes of discussion, they agreed that the winner could only pick two times in a row before they had to hand off their pick to someone else. The rest of the night passed in a haze of alcohol and heated competition. By the end of the night, everyone had one at least one game, and no one was sober enough to drive home. A few took Ubers and the rest crashed at the Winchester home. Cas and Dean slipped up the stairs after they made sure everyone had a pillow and blanket. At the top of the stairs, Cas smiled sheepishly at Dean. His cheeks were pink from the heat and the alcohol he had consumed. It made him look more like a teenager than a man nearing his mid-twenties. When he whispered, “Thank you for tonight, Dean,” he seemed softer, gentler than his usual self.

It warmed something inside Dean and he said reverently, “You’re welcome, Cas.”


	7. Good Night Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of Dean's POV. Confusion, fun, and...

The sun was shining as Dean made his way up the long driveway. A massive pale-green house with forest green shudders towered over the surrounding area. As he entered the circular section of the drive, he saw several large fenced areas and a couple of smaller buildings with matching architecture and paint. The setting was idyllic and not at all what he was expecting after meeting its owner. A man more suited to a dive bar or a cabin in the woods. His gruff demeanor had set Dean back on his heels, and the job offer that followed had stunned him into silence.

The entire situation had been taken completely out of his hands. He needed the money and with his hours being cut at his current job, there was no way he could turn down a full-time gig. A job that he thought simply fell in his lap. He found out the truth when he met his new boss, at a rundown diner with excellent hashbrowns, to discuss the job in more detail.

_“Cas and Charlie sing your praises.”_

_“Huh…are they why you offered me the job?” asked Dean a little miffed at his friends for not informing him they knew Bobby._

_Bobby frowned and scoffed, “Young people. What’d you think? I saw your pretty face and just had to hire you.”_

_“No, not that. I thought maybe you saw how hard I was working that day.”_

_Shrugging, Bobby said, “There was that, but why’d you think I was there in the first place.”_

_“Yeah I guess not ordering anything should have been a clue.”_

_Bobby shook his head before shoving some papers across the table. “Look these over. I want an answer before the end of breakfast.”_

Dean had perused the list of duties and the additional list of add-ons which paid a hell of a lot more than the minimum wage he was currently earning. When he had questioned Bobby, the man had waved off the question and changed the subject. And now he was parking in front of the house for the first time, gearing up for his first day. He was nervous about the job. It wasn’t a great fit for someone who was never a dog lover, but he would make it work. Bobby and his fellow trainer were the one’s who dealt with the animals on a day-to-day basis. Dean would be doing the cleanup, the upkeep and the computer work his boss detested. He walked up to house and had his hand raised to ring the bell when the door opened. “What are you doing standing around? The work won’t get done on my damn porch.”

Dean bit back a smile as he turned to walk back down the stairs. Bobby gave him a perfunctory tour of the kennels and training areas. He pointed out the grooming areas and the medical facilities. The woman, who appeared to be a veterinarian, nodded in Dean’s direction as Bobby said, “That’s Annie. She’s here to see that our rescue animals get medical care.” Confusion settled over Dean as they continued the tour.

When they stopped in the main office, he said, “Bobby, you didn’t tell me you were also a center for rescued animals.”

“We do just about everything here.”

Dean was still confused and his expression must have shown it because Bobby said, “You’ll be working on the business side of things. Where we make our money.” The older man turned around and walked out the door. Dean scrambled to follow. Without looking back, Bobby pointed to the largest enclosure. “Fences aren’t going to fix themselves.” And with that he was gone.

By the end of the day, Dean was sweaty and physically exhausted, but he felt better than he had at the end of any other workday. He could visually see his accomplishments. He watched with fascination as Garth, a lanky man with a perma-grin, worked with the dogs in the area he had repaired. The trainer smiled and waved at him as he stepped up to his car. Dean found himself waving back with a satisfied smile.

When he drove into the driveway twenty minutes later, Cas was standing on the porch with a cold beer in his hands. His smile was small but genuine when he handed the beer off to Dean. “Bobby called. Said you’d need some refreshment.”

“God, yes,” Dean sighed with gratitude.

After Dean downed half his beer, Cas asked, “Rough day?”

Dean grinned at his friend. “Not in the slightest. Best job I ever had. I mean I’m sweaty and gross and my muscles ache, but it was awesome.”

“Good, I had a feeling you’d like it.”

“Thanks for…ya know.”

“Of course, Dean.” Cas turned and walked toward the front door. “I’m sure dinner is ready. Not sure exactly what we’re having since Sam decided to cook.” Dean’s whine, which he failed miserably at covering with a cough, made Cas smile and wink. “It won’t be that bad.”

“Are you kidding? Last time the pork chops were rock hard.”

Cas’s eyebrow quirked. “Rock hard. Interesting choice of words. I would think tough is a more apt way to describe meat. Unless you’re describing…” His eyes fixed on Dean, the innuendo clear in both his voice and his expression.

Brushing by Cas, he huffed and muttered, mostly to himself. “Does it ever stop?” And Dean actually wondered about the answer.

“Sorry, Dean,” Cas said quietly. Dean registered the guilt in his friend’s voice as he heard retreating footsteps and the annoying squeak of the screen door, which he once again had forgotten to fix. The loud sound of Cas’s motorcycle faded into the distance as Dean stood rooted to the spot.

Sam came out of the kitchen and stared at Dean. “Was that Cas’s bike?” Dean nodded. “I thought he was going to be here for dinner. He said he was just going out to meet you to find out how your day went.”

“Um…uh…” Dean stammered as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Standing to his full height, Sam tried to look stern. “What did you do?”

“I’m starving,” Dean said as he maneuvered around his younger brother to get in the kitchen. “Can we talk as we eat?”

“Fine, but we are talking about this.” Sam followed Dean into the kitchen and proceeded to fill two plates with something resembling jambalaya. “I hope it’s okay.”

They ate in silence. A silence Dean wanted to maintain but knowing Sam the inevitable interrogation was only moments away. Trying to stave off the onslaught, he kept his head down and eyes averted. He could practically hear Sam gearing up to start, so he deflected, “This is actually decent. No burnt parts. Nothing raw. Not going to win any awards but…it’s edible.”

“Thanks for the outstanding review, but it’s not going to work.”

“What?”

Sam rolled his eyes and set his fork next to his plate. He sat up straight and turned to directly face Dean. “Whether you fake compliment my food or not, we are talking about Cas.”

“That’s not what -”

Cutting Dean off, Sam said sternly, “Don’t. Just tell me why he left.”

Frustrated, Dean slapped his fork down and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know. He said sorry and then he left.”

The irritated expression on Sam’s face expanded exponentially as did the frustration in his voice. “And why was he saying sorry?”

Dean replayed the conversation in his mind. He could feel heat rising up his neck as he recalled Cas’s comment, the tone of his voice, and his facial expression. There was no way he could tell Sammy all that, so he altered the facts a bit. “He made a joke, and I shot it down.”

The stare he got from Sam told him all he needed to know. He was not buying that story, even a little. Sam’s words solidified the truth of Dean’s thought. “Cas would not leave over something so trivial. The guy’s a badass.”

“A badass? Really, Sammy.” Dean shook his head as he added, “And when did you start using words like badass.”

With pink cheeks, Sam said, “I think I’ve been hanging out with Charlie and Gabe too much. But my point still stands even if you didn’t like my word choice. So, what really happened?”

Steeling himself, Dean pushed back from the table and walked over to the sink. He stared out the window. His eyes catching on the rays of light streaming through the maple leaves. Marking the spot under the tree where Cas sought solace. He sighed at the thought. “He’s been different. Looser or something, and it’s…I don’t know…weird, I guess.”

“It’s weird that he isn’t tense all the time. Weird that he smiles more. That he laughs and jokes around,” Sam said mockingly, but his voice was pure anger when he added, “That bothers you. You actually find Cas being happy weird.”

“No, I…” Dean started, but he realized pretty quick he didn’t have a defense. Sam was right in a way. Cas’s words and actions since their drunken game night made him uncomfortable. It was fine when they were both tipsy, but stone cold sober it was… His brain headed straight back to weird. Fucking weird is the only way he could seem to describe it, even when he tried to shove that descriptor away. “Dammit,” he said as he turned to face Sam.

“Wow, just wow,” said Sam as he ran his hands through his hair. “I was really hoping I was wrong on that one. How…” He stopped, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “I think I need to go. Yeah, I’m going to Kevin’s. Not sure when I’ll be back.” He raced from the room, confusion, anger, sadness and disappointment evident in his body language and his eyes.

It was the disappointment Dean couldn’t stomach. It had him reaching out for Sam, but his brother sidestepped his hand and took long strides until he was clear of the kitchen. Dean watched him, seeing the slumped shoulders and clenched fists. He was probably lucky Sam walked away because at that moment he wasn’t sure Sam wouldn’t have punched him if he had stayed. And the worst part was he knew he deserved it. What kind of person isn’t glad to see their best friend happy? If Benny or Aaron or Jo, or really any of his other friends would have made that joke he would have laughed. That’s the kind of shit they always do and say with each other. It’s childish and kind of stupid, but that often constitutes humor among friends. And Cas is his friend, his best friend, so why is it so different coming from him. Why does it make him feel so strange?

He didn’t have time to ponder that question or berate himself further because he heard the sound of a motorcycle, followed quickly by the opening of the screen door. His eyes were immediately pulled to Cas who was standing awkwardly just inside the door as if he was poised to make a hasty retreat. “Hey Cas,” Dean rushed to say hoping he could keep the man in the house.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said as he stepped further into the house. He set his keys down on the side table, keeping his eyes on them as he ran his fingers along the painted surface. “I wanted to apologize. I should have realized my poor attempts at humor were making you uncomfortable long before today. I see that now, and I want to assure you it won’t happen again. I also want you to know I haven’t forgotten my role here. I know what my purpose is, and I won’t lose sight of that again.” His eyes found Dean’s for a brief second before returning to the table and his keys. “Tell Sam I’m sorry about dinner and I’ll be home late. I have some work I need to finish.”

Before Dean could figure out what to say, Cas made that hasty retreat. Dean stared at the empty space where his friend had just stood. His words reverberating in his head. _My role. My purpose_. “What the hell was that?” Dean said to the slightly ajar screen door. He waited as if somehow it would give him the answers he needed. He shook himself out of the ridiculous notion and went to sit on the couch. With Cas’s assurance, he was getting what he wanted. He should be pleased, but for some reason he felt as if he had made a terrible mistake. One that would come back to bite him someday. And even now in the present, he didn’t feel good about the result, instead all he felt was guilt. He pictured Sam’s face when he left the house and then Cas’s. There had been a similar connotation to their expressions. He figured if he looked in the mirror, he would see the same looking back at him.

Hours later, as he readied himself for bed, his eyes raised to his reflection and what he saw proved he was right. Not willing to study the situation or himself further, he skipped the rest of his bedtime routine in favor of curling up in bed. He tried to read to occupy his mind, but after reading the same line six times in a row he finally relented. Laying the book on his bedside table, he turned up the music, hoping to drown out his thoughts. It took a long time for his eyes to droop and his breathing to even out.

 

There wasn’t much laughter in the house for the next several weeks. It didn’t take long for Dean to figure out Sam was avoiding him. He answered when spoken to, but it was perfunctory at best. He overheard Cas trying to coax Sam into admitting what was bothering him, but Sam held firm. He did coax a promise from him to ease up on Dean. _Only because it’s what you want, Cas_ was Sam’s caveat. Dean was taken aback, even as he understood the sentiment. Sam wanted Cas to know how much he respected him and how much he cared about his opinion. The scowl he received when Sam made his way up the stairs showed Dean’s eavesdropping had been discovered, and it was not appreciated.

Despite that look, Sam’s attitude toward Dean did improve, slowly and painfully. It eventually returned to their usual banter. Cas, on the other hand, curbed himself as he had promised. The jokes and light teasing were gone, replaced by the man who took charge all those years ago. The concentrated, commanding looks were back in full force. It saddened Dean more than he expected, especially when he would catch a glimpse of a smile or his laughter. Those moments weren’t for Dean. They were reserved for Sam and Charlie. And Dean only saw it if he was lucky enough to happen upon them and his presence went unnoticed. For if Castiel saw him, he closed off, shut down, reprogrammed. Dean had any number of ways to describe Cas’s transition and none of them were good. He hated those moments the most.

The irony of it all was that Cas was still there for Dean. When he had a hard day at school or work or felt overwhelmed at his responsibilities, Cas opened his arms to him. He held him and soothed him as he had done the night after the funeral and so many nights since. Dean still shared his fears and his sadness with the man, and Cas took it all. He felt tremendous guilt, and yet he couldn’t stop seeking Cas out. His need outweighed his guilt in those weak moments.

Over time, Dean found a way to compartmentalize his feelings and even found a way to see Cas smile. He made sure to schedule more nights with their friends. Game nights, bowling nights, dinners out, and even some club nights. Cas maintained his stoicism in the early hours of those nights but with a few drinks he loosened up. They usually stumbled home together talking and laughing late into the night. Dean saw a side of Cas he didn’t expect. A side that drew both men and women to him. Yet, Cas never seemed to take note of anyone in particular. He’d dance freely, pulling people against him for song after song, and then he’d let them go without a second glance. Some nights Dean spent more time watching Cas than he did anything else.

After a long night, Dean was seated at the bar nursing a beer when he was smacked on the arm. “Stop staring.”

“Huh?” Dean said as he turned toward the voice to find Charlie glaring at him. “Why’d you hit me?”

“I said your name like three times, but you were too busy staring at Cas.”

Dean fumbled over his denial. “No…um…I was not.”

“Sure, you weren’t,” said Charlie sarcastically. After rolling her eyes, her expression grew serious. “You can’t keep doing this to him.”

Slightly on the side of too drunk, Dean wasn’t able to understand what Charlie was trying to say. Without answering, he finished his beer and tapped the bar for another.

Charlie was not pleased. “What the hell? I’m talking about your so-called best friend, and all you can do is down another beer.”

“He’s not so-called,” slurred Dean.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” sneered Charlie as she stormed off.

He tried to call her back, but the bartender set his new drink in front of him drawing his attention. By the time he turned around, he had lost sight of Charlie in the large crowd. His eyes, however, easily found Castiel, and he went right back to staring. Cas’s eyes found his and the man made his way over, taking the seat beside him. He was sweaty and flushed and smiling. It brought a grin to Dean’s face as he passed his half-full beer over to him.

“Thank you,” Cas said after taking a large swallow. “Why don’t you come join us? They’ve been asking for you.”

Ignoring the comment, Dean said, “You going to take someone home for once. That tall guy seems pretty into you.”

Cas’s eyes flashed to the dance floor before fixing firmly on Dean. “He’s not for me.”

“Who is?”

“What do you mean?” asked Cas with his patented head-tilt and squint.

Dean touched Cas’s arm lightly as he said, “You never leave with anyone, Cas. No one seems to be the one for you. What are you waiting for, Prince Charming?”

The question elicited a burst of laughter from Cas. “No, definitely not Prince Charming. I want someone real. Someone I can…”

“What, Cas?”

“Don’t worry about it, Dean.”

It was an answer Cas so often gave when it came to talking about himself, and Dean hated it. So that is precisely what he said, “I hate when you do that. I wanna know about you Cas and I worry. So there.”   He knew it all came out a bit sloppy, but he thought he still made his point. Cas’s tiny smile and shoulder bump signaled he had, but he still didn’t answer Dean’s earlier question.

“Let’s go home, Dean.”

“All right, lead the way.” Dean gestured toward the exit.

Cas chuckled, “I think that was a given considering you’re swaying where you sit.”

Cas held his elbow as he steered him through the traffic and out the door. They climbed into a waiting taxi. The ride home was quiet at first until Dean started talking. He kept up a running commentary that had the driver covering his snickering with his hand.

“I think I wanna be someone’s Prince Charming.”

“Do you think I’d make a good Prince?”

“Maybe a knight in shining armor. Oh, wait, don’t you have to ride a horse for that?”

“I never road a horse, Cas. I don’t think I can be a knight. Do you think I could still be a prince?”

“Cas, come on, you have to tell me what kind of prince you want. I know, dark and brooding. No wait that’s you. There aren’t two of you so that won’t work.”

“Um…I know. Someone with big muscles who can pick you up. That would be good, right?”

“Or maybe not. Maybe you want to do the carrying. Yeah, that makes more sense.”

“Ya know what you need Cas. You need to be the knight in shining armor. Am I right?” Dean forced himself to stop his word vomit and wait for Cas to answer. The driver wasn’t bothering to hide his laughter anymore and was clearly watching in the rearview mirror, but Dean didn’t care. All he cared about was Cas’s answer.

“Of course, Dean,” said Cas.

There was a gravity to Cas’s voice which didn’t quite match the situation, but Dean couldn’t help smiling anyway. “Nailed it,” he said as he leaned against Cas’s shoulder. “You’re my best friend, Cas. Not so-called or anything. Just best.”

“Okay, Dean.”

At home, Cas pulled Dean from the car and took most of his weight as they made their way upstairs. He helped Dean brush his teeth and forced him to down an entire glass of water. As Dean tried to shuck his clothes, he kept getting tangled. Cas finally took charge and helped him strip down to his boxers. Dean flopped back onto the bed, thanking Cas. “You’re my hero, Cas. Did you know that?”

Cas mumbled something about _a lack of filter_ and _too drunk to remember_. Dean shook his head at Cas’s words. “I always remember you, Cas. Think about you.” Dean snuggled up under the sheet Cas pulled over him. “Night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

As Cas left, he turned out the light but didn’t shut the door right away. Dean could feel Cas’s eyes on him, and it made him think about how Mary used to do that after tucking him and Sam into bed. Knowing he had someone watching over him brought a smile to his lips. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that maybe Cas was more guardian angel than knight in shining armor.


	8. Sam Sees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little glimpse from Sam's perspective. Hope you enjoy.

The sound of voices from Castiel’s room drew Sam’s attention as he exited the bathroom. Without thinking, he inched closer to the door. He recognized the voice speaking, but her tone surprised him. It was serious and filled with worry.

“Cas, this isn’t healthy. You can’t keep this up.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Try,” pleaded Charlie. “All I’m asking you to do is try.”’

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Not really.”

Cas’s sigh was loud enough for Sam to hear through the door, but he had to strain to hear his next words. “What do you need me to do?”

“I want you to give it a chance. Give the person a real shot, which means no comparisons.”

The room fell silent for a second, and then Sam heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He backed away from the door and rushed into his own room. He closed the door as silently as possible, hoping he hadn’t been detected. He sat down on his bed and began to replay the conversation he had just overheard. It wasn’t the first time he caught Charlie pushing Cas over the past year. He wondered exactly what she wanted their friend to do and what was so unhealthy in Cas’s life. His mind drifted to a few of the conversations he walked in on between Cas and Dean. There was something in Cas’s life he was missing, and it was starting to really bother him. He wanted to help his friend, but how could he do that if he didn’t understand the problem. As he laid back, he decided he would pay closer attention to Cas.

It was a few weeks later when the issue became more obvious. He was meeting Kevin at a coffee shop across town. As he stepped up to the building, he glanced in the window looking for his friend. His gaze landed on a table near the back. Cas was seated at the table with another man, and they were holding hands. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. In fact, Cas seemed slightly uncomfortable. Sam was so focused on the scene in the shop that he didn’t notice Kevin had arrived.

“What are you looking at?”

Sam jumped, but it didn’t stop him from responding. “Cas is on a date.”

“And?”

“I didn’t know he was…”

“Dating?” asked Kevin, clearly confused.

Pulling his eyes from the window, Sam looked at his friend. “What’s with all the one-word questions? And yes, I didn’t know he was dating, but I also didn’t know he was gay.”

“How do you know he’s gay?”

“The man holding his hand.”

“He could be bisexual,” said Kevin as he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, yeah, he could be, but I didn’t know. Although it would explain a few things.” Sam grabbed Kevin’s arm and pulled him down the street. After they rounded the corner, Sam stopped abruptly.

Kevin pulled his arm free and said, “Would you please explain?”

Taking a deep breath, Sam leaned against the brick wall. “I’ve overheard a few things about Cas, and I think I understand what Charlie was talking about now. And I think it’s why she is pushing him to go on dates.” Kevin seemed even more confused, so Sam continued. “I first noticed something a few months after Cas moved in with us. There were these moments between Dean and Cas where I felt like the third wheel or where I just knew it was private.”

Eyes wide, Kevin said, “Oh.”

Sam waved his arm rapidly. “No, no. I don’t think they are together or ever were together. I think that is the problem.”

“So the problem is they aren’t a couple. If that’s the case, why is Charlie pushing Cas to date.”

Closing his eyes, Sam sighed, “Because I don’t think Dean…I can’t be sure, but I’m guessing either he doesn’t know or maybe he already said no.”

A knowing look swept across Kevin’s face. “That might explain the weird tension between them lately. You said they were avoiding each other at times.” Sam nodded and then started walking. “What are you going to do about it?” asked Kevin when he caught up.

“I don’t know. I mean. Cas is my family, and I know he’s been struggling. That much is obvious. And it’s also seems obvious to me now that Charlie thinks he needs to find someone to get over Dean. But what if…” Sam’s voice trailed off as memories filled his mind.

_The smile exchanged between Dean and Cas on the last day of their road trip. The way it lingered to the point where Sam felt the need to look away._

_Cas’s arms wrapped around Dean as tears streamed down the younger man’s face. Sam feeling the need to duck away on each of those occasions._

_The watchful eye Cas kept on Dean, and his uncanny ability to sense Dean’s needs._

_The stricken look on Castiel’s face when Dean put his arm around Aaron the night he announced they were dating._

_The way they always stood so close together. Practically leaning on each other. And then there were the touches._

Sam could no longer ignore or brush off these moments. He could no longer convince himself he hadn’t seen anything because it was all right there in his memory. It was there in every interaction the two men had and how Cas tried to cover his emotions. It was there in the distance Cas created and in the lack of personal space between the two friends. Sam realized there was little doubt to what it all meant. Cas loved Dean and had for a long while. And it was decidedly different than how he loved Sam. Now that he had seen it, he would never be able to look past it again. “Fuck. He loves him.”

“I think you’re right.”

Sam looked down at Kevin. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that information?”

“Nothing. It isn’t your place, Sam,” Kevin said with conviction.

“How is it not my place? They’re my brothers.”

Silence ensued as they began walking again. When they reached Kevin’s car, he said, “My mom should be home by now. Maybe you should talk to her. She drives me nuts with all her interfering and analyzing, but she is good at her job.” They talked about inane topics as they drove and sang along to a few songs. The time passed quickly and before he knew it Sam was seated across the counter from Linda Tran, renowned psychiatrist and author of  numerous papers on PTSD. She intimidated Sam on the best of days and today was no exception.

“So, you are speculating based on your observations of a few overheard conversations and intimate moments. Is that correct?”

“Um…yeah, I guess.”

“And from that you want to what…intervene, confront one or both of them?”

Sam flopped back on the stool. “When you say it like that it sounds stupid.”

The stern look slipped off Linda’s face as her lips quirked up in a smile. “I think you have answered your own question. Even if most or all of your assumptions are right, you have no idea how either of them would react or what they have already discussed with each other. They are both adults, and they are the one’s who have to communicate.”

“But what if they just can’t talk about it. How long do I just sit back and watch them torture themselves?”

For a moment Sam thought Mrs. Tran wasn’t going to answer, but then she said, “Cas has never struck me as someone who is timid. He tends to go after what he wants, why would your brother be an exception? I think the most likely scenario is that Cas told Dean and did not get the answer he wanted.”

Sam’s first instinct was to protest, but he stopped himself from the knee-jerk reaction and really thought about her comment. He looked over at Kevin who seemed to be doing much the same. There was a flash of understanding in his friend’s eyes in the second before he nodded. “I think I agree with my mom,” he said to Sam before turning to look at his mom. “Don’t let that go to your head, Mom. It’s a one-time statement.” Linda smirked and then chuckled, to which Kevin groaned.

As he watched the mother and son with a wistful look, Sam said, “I guess that makes the most sense. It would explain their strange behavior around each other and Cas’s dating.” Even though Sam found himself agreeing, he didn’t feel any better. In fact, a heavy sadness seemed to be creeping over him. He wanted to help. He needed to help, and yet he was stuck. Trapped by the circumstances and by a lack of information. And even more, he was trapped in between the two most important people in his life. Both of whom tried to hide their true emotions from him. Tried to protect him and keep him from seeing their weaknesses. He wanted to rail at them to make them see he was growing up. Make them see he did not need protecting. He knew it was a lost cause. Cas was still protecting Dean, sheltering him in any way he could, so there was no way he would stop doing the very same for Sam. And of course, Dean was little different. He was determined to keep Sam safe and secure while giving him every opportunity to succeed.

When he took the time to really look at their lives, Sam realized he had lost a mother, but gained two father figures. Two young men who grew up fast and learned to work together. It wasn’t always perfect but the respect and love were always there, in every decision and in every conversation. The more he thought about it, the more it bothered Sam that Dean didn’t see what he could have, what they could have. Sam shook himself out of that train of thought. It would do no good to dwell on a situation he couldn’t alter. He had to let it go. _For now_ , his traitorous mind added.

 

Letting it go was easier said than done. It was almost impossible to ignore or pretend he didn’t see the signs. The next several months were filled with what Sam could only call supercharged moments. It was like the room crackled with intensity, and the energy didn’t only come from Cas. It made him wonder if Mrs. Tran had been wrong. If they had jumped to the wrong conclusion. But just when he thought he was going to say something, Dean showed up with a woman on his arm. She didn’t stick around long, less than two weeks by Sam’s count, but the tension she created permeated the entire house. Cas was stiff and distant around Dean and seemed to avoid the house. Even with that, Sam could see the pain in Cas’s eyes. The longing stares at Dean’s back. The vacant look he set on his face when Dean faced him.

It all got to be too much after he got home from school one day to find Dean’s face buried in Cas’s chest. The look of love and adoration on Cas’s face sealed the deal for Sam. Later that night, after Dean had left for his night class, Sam blurted, “Have you told him?” Despite Cas’s inquisitive look, Sam had seen the flicker of panic in the man’s blue eyes.

“Told who what?” asked Cas.

“Have you told Dean how you feel?” Sam asked emphasizing each word. He rushed to add, “And before you try to deny it, it’s written all over your face when you look at him.”

Cas’s face morphed into one of anger even as it flushed with embarrassment. “Sam,” he warned.

“Cas, I’m not a little kid and I’m not an idiot, so please don’t treat me like one. Just answer the question,” Sam paused before he added, “Please.”

Cas rocked back in his chair, something Sam had never seen him do. He stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head in blatant frustration. He huffed, “No, and I don’t plan to.”

“Why not? He seems -”

“Don’t finish that thought,” Cas said as he cut Sam off. “I did what you asked and answered your question, so we are done discussing it.” His chair slammed back down onto the floor. “Dean needs to find his own path and you and I need to let him.”

There was a finality to Cas’s statement, and it made Sam swallow back the _but_ he was about to say. He stared at his friend and saw the resolution in them, so he asked, “What about you? What are you going to do?”

A sad smile greeted his question. “I have my work and my family and friends. For now, it is enough.”

“And later?”

“I’m already working on that. Charlie and I have outlined my next big project. I’m sure you’ve heard us talking about it.” Sam nodded. “I plan to start when you are in college and Dean is done with his degree.”

Sam shifted nervously as he pondered Cas’s words. “You’re really leaving?” It was Cas’s turn to nod. “And it’s going to be dangerous?”

“I will be careful, but I’ll be in some of the most hostile places in the world so…” Cas’s deep voice trailed off as he gave Sam a sympathetic smile.

It was as if the air was sucked out of Sam’s lungs and out of the room. He didn’t know how to respond or if he even should, but then his mind got stuck on one thought. “Have you talked this over with Dean?”

“To a degree.”

The answer was vague and wholly unsatisfactory, but when pressed Cas refused to give any more detail. Sam excused himself after his fourth failure to elicit a further response. He went to his room, put in his headphones, and tried to drown out the image of Cas waving good-bye at the airport. Once he banished that image, it was replaced by more horrific ones. Cas running for his life in some war-torn country. Cas lying wounded or dead. He had always known about Cas’s job, about the danger, but somehow it was all the more real after their conversation. And if Cas was telling the truth, he would be going in a few short years. What would that do to their family? How would he cope without him? How would Dean? Those questions were still running through his mind as he drifted off to sleep. His dreams were plagued with devastation and loss. He woke at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

Muffled voices grew clearer as they reached the landing. “Did you guys have a good night?” asked Dean.

“It was fine. How was class?”

“Good.” Dean stopped and Sam could hear him shuffling his feet. “Sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t apologize. You can lean on me whenever you need support.”

The sound of movement ensued and if Sam had to put money on it, he would say his brother was hugging Cas. “You are the best friend I’ve ever had Cas. You’re family. Our brother.”

It was the last word which hit Sam in the chest. It put the final nail in the coffin. For that word signaled why Cas was going to leave. Why he had to go, and why they would eventually lose him to the greater world. As Sam closed his eyes, he felt a dampness on his cheeks. He hadn’t cried since the summer after his mother had died, but now alone in his darkened room, he let the tears fall. He brushed them away before falling asleep.

 

In the morning, he entered the kitchen to see Cas standing at the stove, making eggs, while Dean hovered at his side. The long lines of their bodies were leaning against each other and at one point, Dean turned to smile at Cas. The tender look Cas gave in return made Sam take a quiet step back. He let them have their moment. It lingered like so many others. He wondered what passed between them in those lingering moments. Whatever it was it left Dean smiling and with a faint blush on his cheeks. And once again Sam was utterly confused. If Dean saw Cas as a brother, why did he react that way. Sighing Sam decided to enter the kitchen, making enough noise to announce his presence. Dean turned to face him.

“Mornin’ Sammy. You look kinda tired. You sleep all right?”

“I’m fine, Dean. What’s for breakfast?”

Cas flicked his gaze over to Sam. “Eggs, toast, and fruit.”

“You mean sausage,” said Dean cheekily.

“No, I mean fruit.” He nudged Dean with his elbow, and Dean leaned into the contact. Another soft smile was exchanged between them. Clearly, they had already been bantering about the breakfast choices.

Sam looked away, hoping by not watching he could forget what was transpiring, but the two men kept up their light-hearted bickering, drawing Sam back into the conversation. He decided then and there that he would enjoy the time they had together because he knew now that it was fleeting. He decided he would appreciate every interaction whether it confused him or not. Because when it all came down to it, they all loved each other in some capacity and what did it really change if the love was different for some. So he chuckled as he interjected himself into their conversation, taking Cas’s side to help rile Dean up. It worked as he knew it would. The ribbing continued through breakfast and clean-up. Dean ruffled Sam’s hair as he said, “Go get ready for school.”

“You’re only hurrying me from the room because you know you lost.”

Dean scoffed, “Keep telling yourself that.”

“No need. The truth speaks for itself,” replied Sam as he walked out of the room. As he approached the stairs, he heard Dean say, “Man, that kid is too smart.”

“And you couldn’t be prouder of that fact,” said Cas matter-of-factly.

“You’re right, but don’t go telling him that.” Sam kept walking so he missed Cas’s response. He smiled as he took the stairs two at a time. He rushed through his morning routine and met Dean by the door ten minutes early. Cas handed him some lunch money just before he slipped out the door. He slid into the Impala still smiling. The smile remained as he waved to Dean and as he entered school and as he walked up to Kevin.

“Good morning?” asked Kevin.

“Something like that,” said Sam.

 


	9. Cas Wanders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to welcome all the new subscribers and thank you for joining this journey. I would love to hear from you. 
> 
> Thanks to those of you who have been here from the first chapters. Your support keeps me writing.

No matter how hard he tried to sleep it evaded him. After several hours of tossing and turning, Cas threw back the covers and exited the bed with a groan of frustration. The day had been wonderful in so many ways, and yet he was restless and irritated. It was a state he had grown more familiar with each passing year. He knew he hid it well. This need for something more. For four years, he had called the Winchester house his home. He stayed, he worked, and he dreamed. Dreams of a life beyond these walls. A life outside of Kansas. The camera he loved so much had become more like a noose around his neck the longer he was stuck working out of his studio. It’s why Charlie and, to his utter shock, Gabe were determined to find him stories that took him away.

He had traveled further in the last year than he had done in his first three years with the Winchesters. His work took him to Brazil, Guatemala, Alaska, and several places in the continental US. It was fulfilling in a way his life in Lawrence wasn’t, but it also caused issues at home. Dean made his displeasure known by using the silent treatment. Sam, of course, did not care for his big brother’s behavior which inevitably led to fighting between the Winchesters. Slamming doors had become common place. No one could get a straight answer from Dean, and plenty of people had tried. Once Bobby failed, Cas gave up on ever truly understanding Dean’s opinion on the matter. He tried to appease him at times, canceling his trip to Alaska several times, but each of those instances broke something inside Cas. He had let pieces of himself fade away, and if the situation didn’t change, he wasn’t sure he would recognize himself.

Oddly it was one of Cas’s internet dates that helped him make the decision to finally go. The man was an environmentalist and amateur photographer, and someone Cas related to on both a professional and personal level. It was several dates in when the topic of his trip came up. Carlos immediately latched onto the topic. His dark eyes lit up with interest as he leaned into Cas’s space.

_“You have to do it, and you shouldn’t wait. The changes happening are so vast and occurring so rapidly that every second counts.” Carlos took Cas’s hand. “My last visit to the North Slope was shocking. I tried to capture it, but you could do it the justice it deserves. And with your name, it may finally get more national attention.” There was real conviction behind his words and a deep-seated disgust for those who denied climate change. Cas understood where his date was coming from and in that moment, he resolved to go._

_Squeezing Carlos’s hand, Cas leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll go,” he said, punctuating his words with a longer kiss._

Cas would forever be grateful to the few weeks he spent with Carlos. The man reignited his passion for his work and made him fully accept where his future belonged. That passion was one of the reasons the relationship the two men forged faded from dating to friendship. It happened seamlessly as they were both too dedicated to their careers and in Cas’s case, Sam and Dean, for a relationship to work. They kept in contact, encouraging each other in their pursuits. It was a friendship Cas had needed and one he greatly appreciated, but it was one that troubled Dean. From the get-go, he seemed to dislike Carlos. His dislike only grew the more Carlos encouraged Cas. It irked Charlie to such a degree she finally confronted Dean.

The confrontation had occurred at the studio, and Cas had walked into the sound of raised voices. They had been well into the argument before he arrived. He had tried to make his way to them, but Gabe blocked his path.

_“Don’t Cassie. Let her handle this. It needed saying, and she was the right person to do it.” Gabe tried to redirect him away from the offices, but Cas held firm. “I’m not sure you want to hear them.”_

_Cas pulled himself free just as he heard Charlie say, “If you’re not man enough to say how you really feel then you need to let Cas live his life without your sulking. Carlos is a great guy, and he’s good for Cas.”_

_“How would you know?” said Dean petulantly._

_“I know because I actually pay attention to Cas. I understand him and how much of himself he has given up for you.” She put special emphasis on the you._

_There was a brief moment of silence before it was interrupted by the sound of a fist hitting wood. Cas rushed forward but halted when Dean spoke. “I know what he gave up for us, and I never stop questioning why he did it and why he still does it.”_

_Charlie laughed darkly. “How do you not get it? He does everything for you, Dean because he -” Cas had heard enough. He burst into the room before Charlie could say the next fateful words. Dean could not know. He could never know._

_“You two are scaring all the customers away,” Cas said, feigning humor. He tried to smile as he added, “Besides you know how I feel about you two bickering.”_

_Even with his presence, Dean remained focused on Charlie. Eyeing her intently. It seemed clear to Cas that Dean was hoping she would finish her sentence. Catching his friend’s eye, he hoped she read the plea in his expression. He breathed a sigh of relief, when she said, “I don’t know what the problem is. Bickering with Dean is a favorite pastime of mine.” And just like that the previous topic was closed. Cas dared to look at Dean. His expression was one of resignation._

After the confrontation, Dean eased up on Carlos. He didn’t huff and sigh whenever Cas video chatted with his friend. Instead, he smiled politely and acknowledged the man with a nod or a quick hello. It made Cas feel immeasurably better. And as time passed, Dean was even willing to talk about Cas’s upcoming trips. He schooled his expressions, trying to hide his discomfort. Even if it wasn’t always effective, Cas appreciated the effort. The positive changes were why Cas didn’t understand his current emotions. Dean and Sam had thrown him an amazing party for his twenty-sixth birthday. He had a trip coming up in less a week and his next show was already planned. _So why am I sitting here struggling to sleep?_   he thought. _What is it this time?_

The immediate answer, which came to mind, he swatted away. But it kept coming unbidden no matter how he tried to halt it. He finally gave in and let it take over his thoughts. It darkened his mood considerably. As always it was Dean. This time it wasn’t something Dean was doing to him. Instead it was the new person in Dean’s life. Well not really new, as Carmen had been in their lives for years. She hadn’t been around as much over the previous year and a half after moving across town with a few new friends, but now she seemed to always show up. Cas saw what it was she wanted, even if Dean didn’t.

They were both in secondary education and shared many of the same classes. Dean’s focus was social studies while hers was language arts. They shared an interest in literature and cars. She was outgoing and funny. She had this quality which brightened the mood in any room she entered. Cas saw the writing on the wall.

Dean could deny it all he wanted, but there was something there. It was in the way they looked at each other and the way Dean laughed. A laugh which Cas could no longer elicit from his friend. In his loneliest moments, he wished time would pass quicker. That the days of his promise would come to an end. Those thoughts ushered in guilt because it was as if he was wishing away Sam’s youth. Wishing away the family he loved so much. He needed to stop his morbid train of thought, so he stepped out of his room and quietly slipped down the stairs. He ignored his desire for a beer and went outside empty handed. He sat down in the furthest corner of the porch, ducking into its dark recesses. He watched the sway of the trees in the moonlight and let a sense of tranquility wash over him.

He let his mind linger on all the good in his life. He let it see the benefits of his friendship with Dean, and the amazing reality that he was family. He pictured Sam as the gangly teenager he had been all those years ago and what an incredible man and human being he had become. He took pride in his role and in what they had accomplished. Sam was headed to Stanford in the fall and was going to room with Kevin. It was everything they had wished for him when they had started this journey. And Dean had went from a kid who contemplated not graduating high school to making the Dean’s list. He thrived in school. It was a wondrous thing to observe, and Cas was so proud of him. These were the reasons he was still here. Why those lonely moments weren’t as frequent as they could be. Why, despite his wanderlust, he cherished this home and family. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around himself.

The sound of movement in the house drew his attention. He turned his head toward the door, but otherwise remained motionless. The door opened and as Cas expected, Dean stepped out. He looked around the yard and the porch. His eyes swept over Cas but then continued their search. Cas waited, knowing once Dean’s eyes adjusted, he would see him.

“You could have said something,” said Dean, voice rough from disuse.

Cas shrugged. Unsure if Dean could see the motion, he said, “You eventually saw me.”

“This is becoming a habit.”

“Meeting out here?”

Dean sat down next to Cas all the while shaking his head. “Not what I meant, but I guess that’s true also. What I meant was you struggling to sleep. What’s going on?”

“I have a lot on my mind.”

Huffing Dean said, “Care to elaborate.”

Cas dropped his arms from his chest and gripped the arms of his chair. The wood was old and beginning to splinter. He felt the sharp points but kept his grip firm anyway. “Just thinking about the changes to come and what it means for all of us.”

“Yeah, Sam leaving is going to be strange. Part of me wants to lock him up to keep him from going.”

The hand closest to Dean loosened on the arm of the chair and sought to close the distance between them. Cas stopped the forward momentum before he touched Dean, awkwardly shifting his hand to his thigh. “I know how hard it’s going to be for you. I wish there was more I could.”

A small, disbelieving laugh slipped from Dean’s lips. “You think you don’t do enough. That’s ridiculous. No one, and I mean no one, has ever done more for us. And I may not be the best at telling you, but I appreciate it every damn day. I have no idea what I would do without you, and I’m so glad you’ll be here with me when he goes away to college.”

There it was the words he had dreaded. The words he knew would keep him from leaving. His love for Dean was the most powerful force in his life. It trumped his need for travel and his desire to work. It laid siege on the other passions in his life. To the effect, it basically trapped him, as any successful siege does. He tried to keep the emotions these thoughts elicited from showing on his face. He fought to keep his own needs and wants from spilling from his lips. Biting his tongue seemed to work the best. Once he released it, he said, with as much reassurance as he could muster, “I’ll be here.”

“I know. You aren’t the kind of person who makes a promise and then bails.”

Cas pictured all the plans he had laid out. The maps and research Charlie and he had compiled. The connections they were even now making in the far-off places he planned to go. The relief agencies and fellow journalists. The soldiers and diplomats. The doctors and volunteers. The refugees and former child soldiers he had already interviewed and photographed. And he realized the few times he had spoken to Dean about it, the man had been preoccupied and hardly listened. He wondered if maybe it was intentional. Dean didn’t want him to leave so maybe this was just another thing the man compartmentalized. They were similar in their ability to accomplish that goal. The idea made him smile.

“What?” asked Dean, confusion evident in his voice.

Cas was equally confused, and it must have showed because Dean added, “Why are you smiling?”

“Oh,” replied Cas. “I guess I was thinking about how similar we are.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true. I’m pretty stubborn when it comes to promises.”

“That you are,” agreed Cas. “You want to tell me what woke you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping so I heard you leave your room. I debated about following you.”

“Wasn’t a very long debate.”

Dean laughed and whacked Cas on the arm. “Well, you know me.”

Cas joined in his laughter. “Yes, I do.”

After the laughter subsided, Dean’s expression grew serious. “Cas, I wasn’t sleeping because I’ve been worried.” He paused until Cas looked over at him. “About you. I’ve felt like you’re keeping things from me. From us.”

“What gave you that impression?”

Dean shrugged. “I mean you looked happy enough at your party, but at times you looked as if you were going through the motions.”

“I assure you tonight was a great night. I loved my party and am grateful to you and Sam for throwing it for me.”

They sat in silence for several seconds. Cas could hear Dean’s breathing as it mingled with the wind. There was a comfort in having him so close. The thought made him turn to look at Dean. He studied the planes of his face in the pale moonlight. He was a beautiful man and the sight of him made Cas’s breath hitch. The sound must have registered with Dean because his head snapped up and over to Cas. Refusing to let embarrassment win, Cas held his gaze. The silence dragged on as they stared at each other. Cas could almost feel the intensity. There was heat and tension, and Cas didn’t want it to end. But he knew it must. He tipped his head up, staring off into the darkest part of the backyard.

The featherlight touch on his arm made him close his eyes. “Cas,” whispered Dean. “I…um…I’m going to head in.” The touch was gone. “I’m glad you had a good time.” Dean stood and his footsteps crossed the porch.

Cas turned his head to find Dean standing at the door. He was holding the handle but not opening it. “You should try to get some sleep.”

“I’ll be in soon Dean.” With those words, his friend opened the door and went inside. Cas didn’t follow.

 

The week passed quickly as Cas prepared for his upcoming trip. Charlie had arranged his travel and his accommodations. He was set to meet a man who worked for the Puerto Rican government. He had agreed to take Cas around the island to document the lack of progress in the reconstruction and recovery from Hurricane Maria. Julian's only request was that Cas arrive before another hurricane season. He wanted documentation of the failure before any new damage was done. In many ways, his request made the trip easier for Cas. There was no option to delay so he was able to stick to his plans without feeling pressure from Dean.

The day of his flight Dean stood at the bottom of the stairs, keys in hand.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m driving you.”

“I thought Charlie was taking me.”

Dean shook his head. “Well, plans change.” Cas didn’t move from the top step. Dean stared up at him with a frown. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“Of course, you can drive me,” Cas said in a rush as he started down the stairs. “I just thought you were working this morning.”

“Bobby gave me the time off. He knew I wanted to see you off in style. No one should have to ride in that thing Charlie considers a car.” Dean took one of Cas’s bags and gestured toward the door. “A much better ride awaits you.”

Cas smiled indulgently at his friend. “Undoubtedly.”

“I knew I liked you,” remarked Dean as he chuckled.

The drive was quiet for the first several minutes except for Dean’s occasional whisper of lyrics. Dean broke the silence when they were stopped at a red light. “Three weeks to a month. Right?”

Nodding, Cas said, “I know it’s longer than I’ve ever been gone, but Julian was very clear in his explanations. With all the various issues and areas to cover, I'm going to need all the time I can get.”

“At least you aren’t going to someplace rampant with gunfire. Still not sure I’ve recovered from your time in Guatemala.”

Cas flinched and felt his hackles rise. “Someone has to tell the story.”

“No need to get mad, Cas. I know why you do your job, and why it’s important.” Dean paused and only continued after Cas relaxed his shoulders. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry, especially when I hear the sound of gunfire in the background.”

Reaching over, Cas patted Dean’s forearm. “I’m always careful.”

Dean looked down at Cas’s hand before resting his own hand on top. The moment lingered until a horn honked behind them. Dean hit the gas harder than needed, and they jerked forward. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“Hmm…I didn’t notice anything amiss,” said Cas with fake innocence, to which Dean smiled. Cas filled the remainder of their ride with talk of his plans for the next weeks. Dean had barely been home recently, so he had missed most of the discussions about his trip to Puerto Rico. Sam had all the details and contact information saved, so this was simply to inform Dean. As they pulled into the airport, Cas sensed a change in Dean. “What is it?”

“Huh?” asked Dean.

“What’s wrong?”

Dean scoffed. “Should have known you’d ask. You’re as bad as Sam. And so you don’t have to interrogate me this time, I’m just going to answer your question. I'm going to miss the hell out of you. I hate when you’re gone a week. A month is going to suck.”

“I’m going to miss you, too Dean.”

 

It had been two weeks since he said goodbye to Dean. Two weeks of constant travel and companionship. Cas knew Julian was an engaging and energetic man from their conversations, but his boundless energy still managed to surprise him. Cas was used to doing much of his work alone. Usually, his contacts spent the first few days showing him around before heading back to their own work and lives. Julian was the exception to this rule. He had stayed with Cas since the moment he picked him up at the San Juan airport. There was an urgency in the man’s every action and in the hurried way he talked. The more time they spent together the more it amazed Castiel.

It was over a year since Hurricane Maria devastated the island and the recovery was slow at best. Non-existent at worst. Power outages. Insufficient aid and late payouts. Roofless homes. Construction delays. Shuttered schools. Police shortages. Nearly bankrupted governments. All of which had contributed to high rates of mental health issues and suicides. Yet somehow through it all Julian remained positive. Each day he pointedly made sure to show Cas some of the island’s success stories. Despite these efforts, Cas could see the continued devastation the hurricane reaped. There was a level of sadness permeating the island. A notion of being a forgotten people. Second class citizens whose pain was less tangible, less significant than those of other Americans.

For Cas, Hurricane Maria and its aftermath joined the ranks of Hurricane Katrina and the Flint Water Crisis. Where poverty begets inadequate aid, leading to more poverty and often exodus. He had photographed many such stories. Ones filled with inequality and racial disparity. Ones where people have minimal political influence and therefore have no recourse. Puerto Ricans fit this mold. Without statehood, they lacked the right to vote for president and had no representation in congress. In essence, they were a modern version of the thirteen colonies who resolutely cast-off British rule for those very reasons.

Staring out the window of the motel, Cas’s mind began whipping through the images he shot over the past two weeks. He saw them in juxtaposition with other disasters and captioned with the words of the colonists who refused to be ruled by a government which did not listen or respond to its needs. As he turned to grab his laptop, a set of arms encircled his waist and a smooth voice whispered, “You’ve done enough work today, Castiel. Come to bed.”

The first time those arms wrapped around him Cas had tensed. It wasn’t that the touch was unwelcome at the time. It was more surprising than anything, and Julian respected Cas’s reaction. Easing back but not letting go completely. Cas had taken measure of his feelings and realized he needed to be touched. He had shifted back until Julian's arm came around him again. They had remained standing as they talked. It was intimate without being sexual. With all their shared time together, Cas had confided in the man about his situation at home, specifically about his unrequited feelings for Dean. So even as they embarked on this thing, Cas still had no idea what to call it, he knew Julian understood. Even without a label or a spoken agreement, he knew it had an end date.

They didn’t kiss, not in the way lover’s did anyway. A quick peck here and there was about it. Maybe a kiss on the neck or behind the ear. Those were few and far between and only occurred in the early morning hours, when they were both sleepy and in need of comfort. They slept wrapped around each other most nights with Cas usually tucked up behind Julian. They held hands on occasion, touched the small of each other’s backs, but that was where the touch ended. At times, Cas thought they could have more. His body certainly wanted more, but his mind always drifted to Dean. To their almost nightly conversations and how he missed his friend. He missed his laugh most of all. He chuckled as he realized he was doing it again. There was a gorgeous man wrapped around him, breathing against his neck, and he was imagining another man’s laughter. The way Dean threw his head back, exposing his neck. A neck Cas was desperate to kiss. Castiel’s chuckle darkened at the thought.

Julian’s arms tightened around him as he slid one hand up to his chest. “Dean?”

“What else?’”

“Come back to bed and let me help distract you.”

It sounded like an invitation for sex, but Cas knew better. He knew Julian would regale him with stories as he rubbed his back and shoulders. It was the one other way they touched each other. Without pause, Cas let Julian lead him back to the bed. He let the dark-haired man with the intense brown eyes roll him onto his stomach. He let his long, slender fingers dig into his tense muscles, and he listened to every word he said. It wasn’t long before his body and mind gave into the soothing nature of touch. He heard his own muffled voice say, “Thank you,” as he sank further into the comfort of the man’s hands.

 

Their last week was a mad rush to the remaining locations Cas was determined to photograph. Exhausted each night, his chats with Dean were short, but Cas could still see Dean vibrating with anticipation. Julian happened to walk in on a few of those chats, and it signaled the end of the intimacy they shared. Without exchanging a word, they shifted to sleeping apart. The small touches remained, but they never lingered the way they had before. Cas understood even as it saddened him. Julian was an amazing person, and he had shared himself with Cas, never asking for more than Cas could give. It was a rarity in this world, and Cas knew it.   Yet, the facts never changed throughout the entire three weeks. Cas remained steadfastly in love with Dean, and therefore could give very little of himself. He sighed as he stared at the ceiling. From the other bed, he heard Julian shift.

“Can’t sleep,” he whispered.

Cas sighed again. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” Julian shifted again, and Cas heard him get up. Castiel’s bed dipped as Julian sat down.

“You’re a good man. You deserve to find someone who can give you all their love.”

Julian huffed as he ran his hand through Cas’s hair. “You make it sound as if you’re not good, as if you don’t deserve the same. Nothing could be further from the truth, Castiel. Just because Dean can’t see what he is missing doesn’t mean you are unworthy of love. Someday you will find the right person.” As he finished speaking, he slipped under the covers.

Cas whispered, "As will you," as he pulled Julian into his arms.  Cas relished the feeling of having a body close, knowing tomorrow night and the nights to follow he would go to bed alone in his room at home. 


	10. Cas Comes Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reader graciously brought an error to my attention. I put two different ages, 22 and 23, for Cas at the beginning of the story. Just to clarify, Cas was 22, Dean was 18, and Sam was 14 when Mary died. 
> 
> And just to update all of you, Puerto Rico is still facing struggles from the hurricane. Rolling blackouts, poverty, lack of funding, broken infrastructure, roofless homes. They are still rebuilding roads almost two years later. To make matters worse, some of the officials in charge of the relief effort were just arrested on fraud charges.

Traveling was long and tiring, and Cas couldn’t wait to get home. He hurried to retrieve his bags and then looked around for Dean. When he didn’t see him, he pulled out his phone and sent a text. Ten minutes and two more texts later, he decided to call. He let it ring until it went to voicemail. He called a second time, and just as he was about to give up, the call was answered.

“What?” snapped Dean.

Anger simmering, Cas said, “I’m at the airport. Where are you?”

“Aw, shit.” Dean sighed heavily. “With everything going on, I completely forgot.”

There was something - exhaustion, uncertainty, fear - in Dean’s voice which made Cas’s anger dissipate. “What’s going on?”

“They’re getting ready to operate on Sammy.”

“What the hell happened?” asked Cas anxiously.

“It’s his appendix.” stated Dean before quietly adding, “Cas, I need you here.”

“I’m on my way.” He hung up quickly and promptly made for the exit. He grabbed the first available taxi and took off for the hospital. When he arrived, he was directed to the waiting room. He found Dean pacing the room. They met in the middle of the space, and Cas wrapped his arms around Dean. He held him firmly as Dean sagged in his arms.

Cas escorted him to the chairs and helped him take a seat. Dean immediately took his hand and gripped it tightly. “They took him in about twenty minutes ago.” His voice shook as he spoke.

“Dean, he’s going to be fine. This is a very common surgery.”

“That’s what they keep telling me, but it’s Sammy.”

Cas nodded in understanding. Hoping to redirect Dean’s thoughts, he asked, “What do you need me to do?”

“I guess you should probably make a few calls.”

Pulling out his phone, Cas began at the top of his contacts list which made Bobby, who had become a trusted member of their ragtag family, his first call. Charlie followed, and she promised to inform Gabe. The call to Kevin took the longest as the young man wouldn’t stop asking questions. Finally, Cas said, “Just come to the hospital,” and hung up before Kevin could say more. He started to make another call but hesitated. It only took a few seconds for him to decide to text the others because really Dean was the priority right now. He was back to pacing, and Cas needed to intervene. He sent a group text, then stood up, and grabbed Dean’s elbow. “Come sit. Kevin should be here soon. I told the others we’d text or call when we knew more, but I would assume Bobby and Charlie won’t wait.”

They sat down in the same chairs, and once again Dean took Cas’s hand. “I hate hospitals.”

“I know.”

“I get this is supposedly routine, but I’m terrified, Cas.” He turned to face the older man. Tears clung to his lashes. “I can’t lose him.”

Without thinking, Cas reached up and cupped Dean’s jaw. “You will not lose him.” Dean didn’t respond except to squeeze Castiel’s hand. “Did they tell you how long it would take?”

“Under an hour if there aren’t any complications.”

Cas looked at his watch. Sam had already been in there for over thirty minutes. “It shouldn’t be too much longer.” Instead of talking further about the surgery or the situation, Cas began talking about Puerto Rico, and some of the people he met. It filled the remaining minutes and before long Dean was standing to greet the doctor. Cas joined him quickly, wanting to hear the news firsthand.

“…went great. Sam is in recovery. The nurse will come get you once he’s been moved to a room and is ready for visitors.” Just as quickly as she had come, the doctor was gone.

It wasn’t long before the nurse arrived to escort them to Sam’s hospital room. When they entered the room, Dean rushed over to the bed and took Sam’s hand. “Sammy?”

A very dazed Sam attempted a smile, but it fell short. Instead, he nodded weakly.

“He’s only just woken up, so it’s normal for him to be a bit groggy,” said the nurse. “You might as well sit while you wait for him to become more coherent.” She gestured at the chair pushed in the corner. “I’ll bring another in for you,” she stated while gesturing toward Cas.

Dean pulled the chair over to the bed and flopped down. It had seen better days. It was worn and flattened, but Dean didn’t seem to register it at all. His eyes were fixed on Sam taking measure of every inch of his brother. “He looks so pale.”

“He does,” said Cas as he came to stand beside Dean. He laid his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “But the doctor told you everything went as expected. He is going to be fine.”

The touch of Dean’s hand over his drew Castiel’s eyes away from Sam. He looked down to see Dean staring up at him. “Thanks, Cas. I’m so glad you’re back.” Before Cas could respond, Dean removed his hand, and his gaze shifted. Noise behind him signaled the return of the nurse, Stacy or was it Susan. Cas couldn’t remember. He was just about to ask when she said, “There is a young man out there insisting he needs to get back here. But since Sam is just out of recovery, I think it best we keep it to the two of you.”

“I’ll go talk to Kevin.”

“No, Cas, like you said he has a bunch of questions, and I was the one who was there. But if he wakes up again…” Dean trailed off as he stood up.

“Of course, Dean.”

Within a heartbeat, he was alone with Sam. He sat down heavily. The exhaustion finally catching up to him, magnified by the guilt he felt. Guilt for not being there for Dean and Sam. “I should have been here,” he whispered.

“Don’t do that, Cas.” Sam’s voice was cracked and breathy. It sounded painful.

“Hello Sam.” Cas held out a cup of water, letting Sam take small sips as he held it for him.

After swallowing and clearing his throat, Sam muttered, “Hey Cas.”

“Dean will be right back. He had to go and talk to Kevin.”

Sam nodded slightly. “I meant what I said. Don’t feel guilty. You were working.”

Movement outside the door stopped their conversation. Dean was standing outside the door, facing the hallway. His arms opened as if inviting a hug. The second Cas saw the dark-haired woman enter those arms he turned away. He tried to cover his emotions. Slip on the mask he had learned to wear so well, but it wasn’t in time.

“Cas, I’m sorry,” whispered Sam.

With those few words, Cas knew he had failed again. He had seen a contemplative look on Sam’s face over the years. Always directed at him and Dean. He had hoped it would change.  That Sam would think Cas had moved on.  He wondered how many times since their first talk that Sam asked himself what he was seeing?  If it was still there? Cas felt weak. His failure to hide his feelings, mixed with the dreary hospital room, made him feel a bit broken. He kept his head down, unable to look at Sam or the door. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Cas, you can talk to me. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I know that Sam. There is nothing to talk about," said Cas, tiredly.  "And you said almost the same words to me before.”

“That's because they're the truth," shrugged Sam.  "Ya know I thought I saw something all the way back on our trip that first summer and then when you were holding him that night.  You still look at him that way.” Shaking his head and chuckling, he continued, “I mean I had no clue exactly what it was when I was a kid, but I saw the way you were together. I see the way you are together.”

“There is no together, Sam. Your brother is with Carmen. As you can see.” He waved his arm in the general direction of the door. “He doesn’t see me that way.” His voice was quiet and pained.  

“But you see him that way.”

Cas shook his head, finally lifting it to make eye contact. “Please stop. No good can come from this conversation.”

“It’s why you leave. Isn’t it?” Cas didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say, no argument he could make. It would all sound hollow because it would be littered with lies. Sam sighed, “I’m not mad at you for going, Cas. I get it. I really do. If I felt…” Cas gave Sam a hard look, and the young man's voice faded out. Several seconds later Sam said, “I would do the same.”

Cas was saved from speaking as Dean and Carmen entered the room. He immediately stood up, looked down at Sam, and said, “I’ll get out of the way.” He walked toward the door, not once looking at Carmen or Dean.

“Cas wait,” called out Dean, but Cas didn’t stop. He didn’t stop until he reached the waiting room to find Charlie, Bobby, and Kevin in an animated conversation.  

Charlie spotted him first.  “What’s wrong?” she asked as she leapt out of her chair.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Then why do you look like your dog died?”

“Charlie,” groaned Cas. “I’m just tired. With the travel and this…” He hoped she would accept his answer because truthfully, he didn’t have the energy for any further conversation.

Bobby stepped up to stand at Charlie’s side. “How about I take you home, son, so you can shower and rest? Sam ain’t going anywhere.” Cas didn’t argue. He went to follow Bobby, but stopped to say, “I think you guys can go back now. Carmen did.” A knowing look came over Charlie’s face, but she kept her thoughts to herself and for that Cas was grateful.

At home, Cas sat on the couch with his head in his hands. When his phone pinged with a text, he saw the time. He had been sitting there for over an hour. Shaking himself out of his self-imposed stupor, he went and took the hottest shower his skin could handle. He was bright red and tingly when he finally emerged. He brushed his teeth roughly before running his hands through his hair much too aggressively. Several strands came out in his hands. It was the sight of those hairs clinging to his fingers which made him take a deep breath and search for an elusive peace. He found some measure of one when he focused on the image of a small girl, swinging and laughing. Eyes dancing with joy despite the debris surrounding her. If she could find happiness in the bleakness that still remained on the island, then surely Cas could find it here, in his home with his family.

After his realization, he dressed quickly. Picked up the keys to his bike and sped off in the direction of the hospital. Night had crept in while he was home, and the brightly lit hospital entrance stood out in the fading light. He slipped in the doors and made his way to Sam’s room. Dean stood as soon as Cas opened the door. He practically charged him. “Why did you leave in such a rush? I was trying to talk to you.”

“I needed to shower and change.”

“Yeah, Bobby told me he drove you home, but that doesn’t explain your hasty exit.” Dean stopped and waved at the clock on the wall. “Or why it took you hours to shower and change. I needed you here.”

“Dean, I was tired from all the travel. I needed to rest.” Cas stepped around Dean and made his way over to Sam’s bed. The young man was sleeping soundly. “How is he?” he asked trying to change the subject, but as usual his stubborn friend refused to allow it.

Shaking his head, Dean retorted, “Nuh-uh. I want an explanation, Cas.”

Cas sat down and dragged his eyes up to meet Dean’s. “What do you want me to say?” Dean took the seat next to him, keeping his eyes on Cas the entire time. “You didn’t need me. Bobby, Kevin, and Charlie were in the waiting room. And Carmen was right here with you.” His tone was heavy with irritation, and it hit hardest on her name. Dean’s eyes widened, but his mouth remained tightly closed. Cas wished he would just lash out instead of searching his eyes for some hidden meaning. Not willing to let it go on, Cas closed his eyes as he turned his head. When he opened them, he saw Sam’s hazel eyes blinking awake. He wanted to jump up and hug the young man.

“Hey Cas.”

“Hello Sam,” greeted Cas. He could still feel Dean’s eyes boring into the side of his head, and he needed to distract himself from it. “How are you feeling?” he asked, hoping to divert attention to Sam.

“Better,” Sam mumbled as his eyelids began to close. He was asleep in seconds.

_So much for that diversion_ , thought Cas just as Dean hissed, “Cas, outside now.”

Shaking his head, Cas said, “I came to be with Sam.”

“Please Cas.” Dean fidgeted in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I need to talk to you and here is not the place.”

The please was really all it took. Castiel stood up and walked out of the room. Dean joined him a moment later. They walked down the hall in silence. Neither spoke until they exited the building. “Cas, I…we always need you. Sam is in there recovering from surgery, and you chose to go home. I don’t get it. You never left when Mom was sick.”

_Damn he knows just where to hit_ , thought Cas, as his stomach heaved with nausea. It took a few steadying breaths to squelch the feeling. Even then, he didn’t have words for Dean’s insinuation. He looked to the sky. There were no answers there, but he lost himself in the shades of gray and black. So spellbound, he didn’t feel the dampness on his cheeks or the quiet cry escaping his lips.

“Cas, you’re crying.”

“What?”

Dean cleared his throat and asked, “Why are you crying?”

Cas lowered his chin and felt the tears drop onto his collarbone. “Oh.” He swiped them away angrily and went to walk away. Dean’s grip stopped him. “Do you always have to know everything?” Cas asked bitterly.

“Not everything. But this, you cryin’, yeah I want to know.” He hesitated and then dropped Cas’s arm. “Was it what I said about Mom?”

“Thinking of Mary, especially those last few months…”

When Cas didn’t continue, Dean said, “It still fucking hurts. And being at this hospital sure doesn’t help any of us.”

“No, it doesn’t.” The intensity of the conversation had drawn them closer together. They were mere inches apart, and for some reason the proximity made Cas blurt, “I missed you.” He wanted to cover his face or step away, but his body refused to move. He was stuck by the soft look in Dean’s green eyes.

“I missed you, too,” Dean whispered as he closed the last inch separating them. Castiel’s arms instinctively encircled his best friend. He breathed in deeply, searching for Dean’s familiar scent beneath the hospital smell lingering on his clothes. The second it hit his senses Cas felt relief. A relief he only found when he was with the younger man. Whenever they were separated, it was as if the last puzzle piece was missing, and the only place to find it was to come home to Dean. He smiled ruefully at his own sappy thoughts before loosening his hold.

Dean tipped back a fraction. “Why the smile?”

“My wayward brain, that’s all.”

“And you don’t care to share," whined Dean theatrically.

Cas threw his head back in a burst of laughter. “It amazes me you can sound like a petulant child even with your deep voice.”

“My deep voice? You have to be kidding me,” said Dean with a wicked grin. “Have you heard yourself? Since the day I met you, I’ve marveled at your voice. It’s like you gargled rocks or some shit. It’s wicked deep and gritty, and I know it can bring both men and women to their knees.”

The flush sweeping across Castiel’s body reached his face in record time, just as another rush of blood hit his groin. He bit back the groan the image Dean’s words had conjured. The image of Dean on his knees gazing up at him, lust in his eyes and mouth tantalizing close to Cas’s leaking cock. He dropped his hands from Dean’s body and took a measurable step back. He did it slowly, or as slow as his need, would allow. Hoping Dean didn’t read anything into the break of contact this time, he quickly said, “Well when I met you, your voice still hadn’t hit puberty, nor had -”

Dean’s hand suddenly covered Cas’s mouth. “Oh no, you are not finishing that sentence.” Despite his glare, Dean was fighting back a smile. Unable to resist, Cas childishly licked Dean’s palm, but the man refused to let go. “Really Cas? And you called me a petulant child.” Cas raised his eyebrows defiantly and cocked his head slightly. “Don’t give me that look Cas. You are not in charge here.”

At Dean’s statement, they both broke down in laughter. Cas ended up bent over bracing himself on his knees. “I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Me, neither,” gasped Dean, still catching his breath.

Once all the laughter subsided, Cas said in a serious tone, “I’m here now, and I won’t leave Sam. You should go home to shower and rest.”

Dean nodded slowly. “Yeah, I suppose. Let’s go back in.  If Sammy’s still sleeping, I’ll go home for a couple hours.” They started walking, arms brushing against each other. "And now that you’re home, we need to talk about Sam’s graduation.”

 

Sam was out of the hospital thirty hours after surgery. He was sore and a bit tired when he got home. Dean insisted he miss a few days of school so as to not strain himself.  Since he had only a few weeks left before graduation, Sam argued vehemently against it.  He lost the argument when Cas backed Dean up.

“Here we go again.”

“What does that mean?” asked Dean.

“It means you two still gang up on me even though I’m eighteen now and can make my own decisions. In three months, I will be halfway across the country. How do you plan to control me then?”

Dean rolled his eyes before looking to Cas. Nodding Cas, said, “We do not control you, Sam. In this family, we make decisions together. There is no harm in staying home for a few days. You’re a straight _A_ student with a full-ride scholarship. I would think it would be a bigger risk to rush your recovery and risk hospitalization.” The smile Dean gave him was one of pride. Cas returned it with an indulgent smile and a shrugged shoulder.

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes and add a scoff for good measure. “I hate when you’re Mister Reasonable and so damn efficacious.”

“Ohh, look at you pulling out the old SAT words.”

“Shut up, Dean.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Knowing the argument was now over, Cas chuckled at the two brothers.

“Quit smiling, Asshat.”

“Dean,” scolded Cas in his sternest voice.

“Dammit, that’s just not fair,” said Dean. “It was bad enough having Sammy pull out the big words, but you using your disgruntled Dad voice is so much worse.”

“Tell me about,” said Sam as he left the room.

Dean smirked at Sam’s retreating back. “That went better than expected.” He walked out of the kitchen and sat down on the couch. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some mindless TV.”

Joining Dean on the couch, Cas tossed his feet up onto the coffee table. Dean whipped through the channels at an alarming speed, forcing Cas to look away from the rapidly changing screen. After several times through, he gave up and pulled up Netflix. “New season of that monster show is available.” It was a show Dean binged one weekend while he was sick. It centered on two brothers and their angel friend. _Reminds me of us and that angel guy reminds me of you_ , he said on more than one occasion, trying to explain his obsession with the show _._ Cas always replied, _I am not an angel_. To which Dean retorted, _You are in my book_. Neither Dean nor Cas commented this time when Dean pressed play. They lost themselves in the show for a couple of episodes. Before the third episode started, Cas grabbed the remote and turned it off. “We talked about Sam’s graduation party but not his gift.”

“Do you have something in mind?”

Sheepishly Cas answered, “Um…well I may have already purchased it."

"Should have guessed,” huffed Dean. “Are you gonna tell me what it is?”

“This is a big milestone, for both of you really. Sam starting college in the fall and you starting your student teaching. So, I thought we should take a trip like we did four years ago. I know we briefly discussed it, but I wanted to surprise you both."

Sam yelled from the stairway, “Where are we going?”

Dropping their feet from the table, both men turned to glare at Sam. “Quit eavesdropping all the damn time,” snapped Dean.

Ignoring Dean, Sam repeated his question while looking directly at Cas. The older man couldn’t resist Sam’s enthusiasm and answered, “Germany,” just as Dean said, “Nowhere.” The room fell dead silent, and Cas turned to face Dean with a perplexed look.

“Cas, I’m sorry, but I signed up for a summer school class, and I promised Bobby I would work full-time the entire summer.”

“Why did you sign up for a class when all you have left is student teaching?” asked Sam as he gingerly walked down the remaining stairs.

Dean looked back and forth between Sam and Cas, settling his gaze somewhere in between them. “It’s a literature class Carmen and I are taking.”

“Well, just because you can’t go doesn’t me Cas and I can’t.” Sam sat down with a slight wince. “I mean if he already purchased everything…” Sam trailed off, voice hopeful and eyes lit with interest.

“Yeah, I guess,” conceded Dean. The words were agreeable, but the tone was anything but.

Knowing he needed to rejoin the conversation, Cas said, “I think this may require more discussion, Sam. I should have talked to Dean before making the decision.”

With those words, Dean leaned back into the couch and faced Cas. He held Cas’s gaze, and it felt as if he was reading him, trying to understand the best way forward. Cas tried to give him reassurance. Whatever passed between them resulted in Dean declaring, “You two should go. Ever since you,” his eyes flicked to Sam, “started taking German, you’ve both talked about going there. I don’t want to stand in the way.” When he finished speaking, he reached out and patted Castiel’s hand. “And use the extra ticket for Charlie. The last time she was here she whined about never getting to travel with you.”

“If you’re sure,” said Cas hesitantly.

“I am,” declared Dean as he stood up. “We can talk more about it tomorrow because I’m going to bed, and so should you Sammy.”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a minute.” Sam watched Dean take the stairs. “Thanks for this Cas,” he said after his brother was out of sight. “And I’m sorry.”

“For what?” At Sam’s concerned look, Cas added, “There is nothing to be sorry for Sam. I was the one who assumed based on a short conversation nine months ago, and I shouldn’t do it anymore.” After a beat, he added, “Things change.  Your brother has a life of his own now.” Sadness tinged his words and invaded the corners of his mind. He pictured his last night in Puerto Rico. The feel of Julian’s arms. The heartfelt words they shared. Cas let it sweep over him and give him comfort, and he thought, _Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not in a year. But someday…yes, one day.._. He shut off his internal monologue and smiled mutedly at Sam.

“I’ll be all right. I promise,” he stated, as much for himself as for Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a doctor, but I did base the details of the surgery and recovery time on my nephew's experience with an appendectomy.


	11. Dean and the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was late. I've been working to finish my fic for the DCBB.

The house was unusually quiet. The only sound was the movement of silverware across their plates. Dean couldn’t remember the last time it was just the two of them sharing a meal. One without Sam or Carmen or Charlie or Kevin. Over the last few months, the house always seemed to be packed with people. A part of Dean loved it, but another part loved these quiet moments. Ones in which he could focus solely on his best friend. He wished their time alone was under different circumstances. He didn’t want to think about the reason Sam was out visiting with his friends. He didn’t want to dwell on the trip they were embarking on in the morning. Diverting himself he said, “I can’t believe Mrs. Tran moved to Palo Alto.”

Cas shook his head. “I can. Kevin is her only family, and her publisher is located there. It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Yeah,” Dean said less than enthusiastically.

“You can’t tell me moving to be with Sam didn’t cross your mind.”

With a bitter laugh, Dean responded, “Of course it did, but it isn’t what he would want or what we could afford. We’re not all nationally acclaimed psychiatrists and New York Times bestselling authors like Linda.” Looking down at his half-empty plate, Dean sighed heavily. “Even though I know this is for the best, I still hate it. I hate this. I hate that he’s going halfway across the country. But mostly I hate myself for reacting this way.” He looked up from his plate and found Cas patiently waiting, a measure of sympathy in his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Cas shook his head and reached across the table, brushing the back of Dean’s hand. “I’ll miss him, too, but at least we get to take him.”

“A month early,” Dean said sullenly.

“Dean, if he didn’t have somewhere to stay until school starts, we wouldn’t be able to drive him. You’d be putting him on an airplane. At least we get this one last road trip, just the three of us.”

Dean’s mind flipped through memories of their other road trips, and his lips quirked up in a small smile.   “Thanks Cas.”

“For what?” asked Cas, clearly perplexed.

“For always knowing the right thing to say. For reminding me why we are doing this. For reminding me how generous it was of Linda to let him live with her and Kevin until school starts. I know he’ll be in good hands, and that he is looking forward to rooming with Kevin. I need to find a way to be happy for them.”

Cas stood up and picked up his plate. “Are you finished?”

“Yeah, lost my appetite.”

“And you will find a way,” stated Cas as he took Dean’s plate away. “Besides, in less than a month you will be busy with student teaching.”

A huge smile spread across Dean’s face and excitement radiated through his body. He stood up and joined Cas at the sink. “I can’t wait. Carmen said it was one of the best experiences of her life. Although I think getting the job offer probably topped it.” Dean started loading the dishwasher. “I’ve hardly seen her since she got the news.”

“I would imagine learning you got a teaching position only a few weeks before the start of school has been somewhat daunting.”

Dean nodded as he shut the dishwasher. “Speaking of short notice, how is Charlie?”

“She’s doing great. I think this might be what she pursues long-term.”

“Really?”

Heading into the living room, Cas said, “She can’t be my travel agent forever. Her skills can be put to much better use. Julian says she is a marvel. Her computer skills and her tenacity have paid off. Not to mention her investment advice. Both the government and the charity are on much better footing since she stepped on the island.”

Dean followed Cas, listening intently to each word and the tone of his voice. Hidden in his praise for their friend was a weariness, a sadness of a sort. “You miss her.”

“That goes without saying, but it doesn’t mean I would ever clip her wings. She is more like me than I ever realized.”

“In what way?”

Flopping down onto the couch, Cas said, “She has as much wanderlust in her heart as I do.”

Dean felt a sharp pain in his stomach at those words. All Dean wanted was a home and his family around him, yet it seemed they all had other ideas. Kevin was already gone. Sammy would soon follow. He never expected Charlie to join their ranks. And Cas. God, Cas, he was forever leaving. Each time it happened, it got harder. The last time it practically gutted Dean, and that was with Sam and all their friends around him. Dean couldn’t wrap his head or his heart around what it would be like if Cas left with Sam gone. Most of the time, he refused to let his mind go there, but then Cas would say shit like that and there was no stopping it. He desperately needed an out so he said, “Is everything packed?”

“Sam assured me he had everything loaded. What about you?”

“I’m all set.”

“Me, too,” said Cas with a smile. “What time do you want to leave in the morning?”

“I’m thinking we should be on the road by seven.”

Cas nodded his agreement as a look of melancholy, replaced his smile. “Time flew by,” he muttered. “I’ve lived here for four years and seen Sam grow into a man. Seeing him walk across the stage and accept his diploma. Hearing them announce all his accomplishments…”

“I know what you mean,” said Dean as he pictured his brother in his cap and gown, adorned with all his accolades. “I’m proud of him. Even if I struggle with him leaving, I’m so damn proud.” He held Cas’s gaze as he finished speaking. They stared at each other, both lost in memories. The sound of the door opening snapped them back to the present. Before Dean turned, he knew who had entered. The look on Cas’s face gave it away. The plastic smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The shadow in his usually bright blue eyes. It was all compounded by the stiff posture. The only times Dean saw Cas in such a state was when his mother was mentioned or when Carmen was present. Since Dean knew Cas’s mother would never deign to come to their humble home, he knew his girlfriend was walking in the door.

Cas’s behavior reminded him of those weeks with Aaron but magnified tenfold. He had hoped it would get better overtime because he hated seeing his best friend so uncomfortable. No one else, except maybe Sam and Charlie, seemed to notice, but to Dean it was blatantly obvious. Dean watched as Cas greeted Carmen and made the requisite small talk. And, as usual, the second Cas caught Dean’s eye, he found an excuse to leave the room. Dean wondered exactly what Cas saw that made him flee. Recognition, hurt, disappointment, confusion. It was possible it was the combination of all four because Dean felt them in equal measure. Tonight’s excuse was a simple, “I need to finish up a few things for work before we leave tomorrow.”

Carmen smiled at Cas and said, “If I don’t see you before I leave tonight, have a good trip.”

“Thank you, Carmen,” responded Cas as he made his way up the stairs.

“Are you guys all ready?” asked Carmen when she faced Dean again.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Carmen smiled knowingly at him. “Yeah, yeah, I know I’m predictable when it comes to Sam.”

As if he had conjured him, the aforementioned younger brother bounded into the house. He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on where Dean’s arm was wrapped around Carmen. “Oh, hey, Carmen.”

Dean’s arm fell off her shoulder as she went to stand. “Hi Sam. I just wanted to come by and say goodbye and wish you luck.” She walked over and hugged him. “You’re going to do great. Call me if you can’t get Dean to leave, and I’ll kick his ass over the phone for you.”

“Hey, I’m right here,” whined Dean.

With a smirk, Carmen retorted, “I know that’s why I said it. Now, walk me to my car.  I need to go, and I’m sure you guys have some things you need to finish up.” As she made her way to the door, she winked at Dean over her shoulder. Chuckling, he stood up and followed her out the door.

 

“Sam, get a move on. I wanted to be on the road fifteen minutes ago.”

“I’ll be right down,” yelled Sam.

Dean looked over at Cas. “I thought he grew out of this years ago.” The disapproving frown Cas gave him made Dean add, “What? He’s usually Mr. Punctuality.”

“Dean,” admonished Cas. “He’s leaving home for the first time. He has lived in this house his whole life. Did you really expect it would be easy for him to walk out the door? A little dragging of the feet was to be expected.”

Smiling sheepishly, Dean said, “Didn’t think about it like that. He’s just been so excited about going I figured he’d be the first one out the door.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s nervous about this. We all are. And for Sam this is a huge step, so I’m sure he’s at least a little scared.”

“More like sad,” said Sam as he walked down the stairs with his duffle bag flung over his shoulder. It was one Dean gave him their first Christmas without Mary. It had not aged well, but Sam never seemed to care. He refused to replace it. The sight of it made Dean smile. “As I was throwing the last items in this bag, I realized how much I’m gonna miss this place.”

Dean was trying to formulate a response when Cas said, “You will at first, but it will get easier once you settle in and start your classes.”

“Cas is right, Sammy,” said Dean as he stepped forward to grab the duffle bag. “Is this the last of it?”

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

The three of them walked out to the car, and for some reason all of them turned to glance back at the house. Their home. With a smile and a shrug, Dean slipped into the driver’s seat. Cas joined him in the front as Sam continued to look at the house. A few heartbeats later the younger Winchester slid into the backseat. “This is not like when I was fourteen. I am not riding back here the whole time.”

“Sure Sammy, keep telling yourself that,” snorted Dean.

“Cas, please tell me this is one time you are not going to take his side.”

Cas hemmed and hawed which only infuriated Sam further. He whined and cajoled until Dean turned up the music to drown him out. With a huff and a kick to the back of Dean’s seat, Sam slumped down in his seat and glared at Dean in the rearview mirror. Dean looked at Cas and winked before bursting into laughter. Cas joined him a second later. “You two suck.”

“We do,” sputtered Dean as he continued to chuckle.

“Gross, Dean. That is not an image I ever want in my head.” Sam kicked the back of Dean’s seat again and huffed loudly.

Dean turned the music down and looked over his shoulder. “Stop kicking my baby or you can walk your ass to California.”

The bickering went on as they drove out of town until Cas intervened. “Sam, Dean is not going to make you walk to Stanford, and Dean, you are going to let Sam have a turn driving.”

Each brother gave a half-hearted attempt to argue with Cas, but the glare he gave them sealed their lips shut. In the ensuing silence, Cas began to talk about the different places they could stop along historic Route 66. Dean immediately zoned in on the topic. He had spent years bemoaning the missed opportunity from their original cross-country trip, and there was no way he was going to drive across the southwest again without following the old route. It would lengthen their driving time, but they had all agreed it was worth it.

Hours into the drive, they were arguing over their first stop along the route. Dean wanted to stop in Galena to see the restored Kan-O-Tex service station and eat at the lunch counter housed in the former service bay. Sam and Cas thought they should take the shorter route through Baxter Springs and make Claremore, Oklahoma their first stop. Since Dean was driving, he simply made the decision to drive through Galena. The stop was quick but set a precedent for the trip. From then on, whoever was driving chose the route and landmark destinations.

After Galena, Dean stopped in Claremore for a visit to the Will Rogers’ museum and then went on to Tulsa. Before leaving home, they had all agreed to visit the sights honoring Cyrus Avery, the Father of Route 66. By the time they reached the city, it was late afternoon. They visited a few sights and then checked into their motel, planning to finish their sightseeing in the morning.  When they left Tulsa, Sam took over driving, stopping for lunch in El Reno before heading to Amarillo, Texas. As they had done the day before, they stopped at several Route 66 attractions before stopping for the night. That pattern continued through New Mexico and Arizona and on into California. Trading off driving and complaining and ultimately enjoying every minute of the trip. When they made it to Santa Monica, they were all exhausted and tired of the car. Even Dean didn’t want to crawl back into his baby. They opted to spend two nights before heading north to Palo Alto.

With a little less than six hours remaining, Cas convinced Dean to sleep in, so they didn’t leave the hotel until ten. They arrived at the Tran’s to find Kevin and Linda preparing a large dinner. Dean immediately pitched in to help while Cas and Kevin helped Sam carry in his things.  It took several trips to drag it all into the room he was sharing with Kevin. By the time they were done, dinner was ready. As they sat down to eat, Dean looked around the townhome. Remembering their trip to this part of California and their discovery of the outrageous cost of housing, he couldn’t begin to fathom how much Linda had paid for the luxurious two-bedroom home. He bit back the question knowing he would be in for a dressing down if he so much as hinted at it.  Instead, he began talking about their trip, and the conversation flowed from there.

By the time they finished cleaning up the dishes, Dean and Cas were ready for bed. “We need to get going,” said Dean. “The old man needs his beauty sleep.”

“Dean, I’m only four years older than you.”

Dean shrugged.   “If behemoth over there is still my little brother, than you are the old man in this family.”

Cas rolled his eyes before crossing the room to give Linda a hug. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. We will see you in the morning.”

Laughing, Dean smirked, “You just proved my point by using the word lovely.”

“Dean Winchester, Castiel is a gentleman. You could learn a thing or two from him.” Linda’s tone commanded attention, and Dean found himself straightening his shoulders.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responded without a hint of sarcasm.

“Better,” she said with a smirk of her own. “Now get out of here. Breakfast’s at eight sharp.”

After a quick goodbye to Sam and Kevin, Dean and Cas made their way to the car. They were staying at a nearby hotel for the next two nights because the only other option was an air mattress and the couch at Linda’s. They checked into the hotel, and Dean barely made it through his bedtime routine without nodding off. Before he knew it, the alarm was going off. He barely remembered crawling into bed. “Damn, is it really mornin’,” he mumbled.

“It is. Good morning, Dean.”

Cas’s voice was entirely too awake and too chipper. Dean cracked one eye open, squinting at the light, and groaned. “Why are you dressed already?”

“I thought since we paid so much for this place, I should use the facilities.”

“Do not tell me you were working out this early,” complained Dean.

Shaking his head, Cas said, “Fine I won’t tell you, but you need to get up. That’s the third time your alarm went off.”

“Fuck, I didn’t even hear it.” Dean groused as he made his way out of the bed and grabbed a change of clothes. “Give me fifteen and I’ll be ready.” As promised, he was ready in fifteen minutes. They arrived just in time for breakfast. Afterward, Linda showed them around the area, and then they drove to Stanford. Sam had toured the campus with Linda and Kevin, but it was the first time Cas and Dean had seen the school.

The longer they walked, the more it hit Dean. He would be leaving his brother here. In less than a day, he would be saying goodbye. A sadness swept over him. He tried to cover with teasing and laughter. It seemed to work with everyone except Cas. When no one was looking, his friend would put a reassuring hand on his arm or shoulder. A couple times he rubbed circles between Dean’s shoulder blades. His comforting touch was the only thing keeping him from crying and demanding Sam come home. Needing to thank Cas, he smiled reassuringly at him several times. Cas nodded his understanding. The silent communication carried throughout their remaining time in Palo Alto. It managed to work all the way up until they said their goodbyes the next morning.

Dean plastered on a smile and hugged Sammy. He let the hug linger longer than usual. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I know,” said Sam as his voice cracked with unshed tears. “I’ll miss you, too.”

“Call if you need anything. I’ll brave a damn plane ride, if you need me.” Dean slapped him on the back as he pulled away. “Get off me and go hug, Cas.”

Sam laughed as he stepped over and hugged Cas. “Take care of him for me,” said Sam, loud enough for Dean to hear.

“I will,” said Cas sincerely. “I already purchased your plane ticket for the holidays, so we’ll see you in a few months.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Sam took a few steps back and smiled. “Dean, call me tonight when you stop.”

Dean nodded as he turned to walk over to the car. “Okay, Bitch.”

“Jerk,” said Sam.

It wasn’t until he was sitting in the passenger seat that he realized Cas had surreptitiously gotten the keys to the Impala and was currently driving them away. He thought about demanding the reason, but then he noticed his vision was blurred with tears. Cas had obviously figured out Dean wouldn’t have the capacity to drive and had circumvented the pointless argument. “Thanks, Cas,” he said through his tears. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Where else would I be?”

Dean cried and Cas didn’t comment. Eventually, the man’s calm presence was enough for Dean’s tears to fade. “Next stop, I’ll take over.”

“Of course, Dean.”

An hour later, Dean found himself behind the wheel of his baby. He needed the open road in front of him and the sounds of classic rock to soothe his still frayed emotions. The first hundred miles or so it seemed to work, but then everything began to aggravate him. The other drivers. The numerous semis. The unexpected rain. The noisy road. And, especially, Cas. His snoring. His questions. His penchant for tapping to the music. His smirk. His eyeroll. His smile. His voice. He let his irritation bubble up, and eventually he let it all out. He complained and whined. He told Cas to, _shut up, sit up, stop snoring_. He snapped at any little noise he made. After several hours of it, Cas yelled, “Take the next exit.”

Dean looked over at him, and the fire in Cas’s eyes had him complying without comment. The commands continued. “Turn right here. Take the next left. Stop the fucking car.” When Dean took notice of his surroundings, he realized they were parked in a hotel parking lot. A very packed hotel parking lot. Before he could say a word, Cas said, “Go get us a room.” Once again, Dean complied without making a sound. Two minutes later, he was back at the car.

“They only have a king room.”

“So what?”

“Um…we’d have to share,” said Dean as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Why is that an issue? I shared a bed with Julian after only knowing him a week.” A rush of questions flooded Dean’s mind, but before he could voice even one, Cas added, “I am not getting back in this car with you, so I am taking the room. If you don’t want to share a bed, then you can sleep in your damn car.”

Flustered, Dean said, “I…ah…um…” Cas raised an eyebrow at him, and Dean decided he needed to regain some semblance of control. “I’ll get the room. Sharing a bed with you is basically the same as sharing with Sam. We’re practically brothers after all.” A feeling of wrong flashed over him, and from the look on Cas’s face, he felt something similar. Dean didn’t understand why or what it meant and didn’t want to look at it too closely, so he turned and walked back into the hotel.

When he reemerged, Cas had already parked the car and gathered their bags. Dean rushed over and took his bag. They stayed silent as they walked and as they road the elevator. It wasn't until they had both used the bathroom, and Dean had rejected ten different comments that he finally broke the silence. And what came out of his mouth was not what he had intended at all. “So, you and Julian?”

Cas stared at him with a pinched expression, which quickly morphed into one of incredulity, before he burst out laughing. When he composed himself, he said, “Really? After the last four hours, that is what you’re going with.”

“Uh…yes,” hedged Dean.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m sorry I was an asshole, Cas. I’m an idiot, Cas. Anyone of those would have been appropriate, but, no, he asks that,” Cas muttered to himself as he flopped down onto the bed and threw his arm over his eyes.

Red-faced, Dean awkwardly said, “Sorry, Cas.”

A heavy sigh came from the bed before Cas said, “In answer to your preposterously timed question, no.”

“Oh, it’s just you said you shared a bed, and I’ve seen the guy. Pretty sure if I shared a bed with someone who looked-”

“Dean,” snapped Cas. “I’m hungry and tired and not in the mood for this conversation. Why don’t you make yourself useful and order a pizza?”

It didn’t take a genius to understand the subject was closed, so Dean did as he was asked. The pizza arrived forty minutes later. They ate as they reclined against the headboard watching TV. For all of Dean’s weirdness over booking the room, it was perfectly comfortable being in bed with Cas. It felt no different than when they huddled up on the couch. When it came time to turn out the light and shut off the TV, Dean easily slid back into the bed without a second thought.

It wasn’t until he woke up to find Cas wrapped around him that the strange feeling returned, especially since his first instinct was to pull Cas’s arm tighter. He shoved that thought away in favor of trying to extricate himself. As he freed himself and rolled away, he felt a sense of loss. He ignored the feeling and went into the bathroom. He rinsed his face with cold water, trying to clear his confusion. When he felt more settled, he glanced up at his reflection, only to regret it instantly when he saw the haunted look in his eyes. He looked away, wiping his hand down his face. He waited for several seconds before heading back to bed, making sure to stay tucked along the edge of the bed. He slept fitfully for the rest of the night, and for the remaining nights on the road home, even though they never shared a bed again.


	12. Change Arrives for Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos. And to all the new subscribers, "Welcome."

Watching as his students filed into the classroom was exciting and nerve-racking. Although with each passing day, Dean became more comfortable and less anxious. The better prepared he felt, the better his classes went, so most nights were spent going over his lesson plans meticulously and critically. He was constantly tweaking them to suit individual classes. There was an obvious benefit in the classroom, but more so, it helped him at home. With his nights busy, he didn’t constantly notice the gaping whole Sam’s absence had left and the strange ache he felt inside. One which he tried desperately to associate with Sammy, but his traitorous mind insisted on filling his dreams with the real issue. And to make matters worse, it plagued him during his waking hours unless he buried his head in work. Even now as he stood at the front of his class, it seeped in somehow. He relived those moments in the hotel room with Cas. He pictured his reflection in the mirror and the haunted look he saw in his own eyes. And he felt, with every fiber of his being, the distance he put between them.

He knew Cas felt it, too. He saw a pained look in his friend’s eyes when he failed to school his expression. But no matter what, Cas never said a word. It was a relief and a torment because part of Dean didn’t want to talk about it, but another part wanted Cas to demand answers. He wanted his friend to push and prod him into fixing what was broken. Because in the darkest corners of his mind, he was devastated by the ever-expanding void between them. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bell. It was as if a switch had been turned. Dean’s mind shifted instantly into the role of teacher. Any and all thoughts of Castiel were put away. They remained safely tucked away until he walked into the house after teaching.

Cas was seated on the couch with papers spread out across the coffee table and his laptop perched amidst the chaos. Dean had seen this picture numerous times over the years. Dread swept over him, and the ache inside became palpable. He felt it with every heartbeat. Unable to bare it for even a few moments, he channeled it into anger. “What the fuck? You said you weren’t going to leave.”

“I said I wouldn’t leave anytime soon.”

“Then what is all this.”

Cas stared up at him. “Why are you yelling?”

The question didn’t quell Dean’s anger in the slightest. In fact, he found himself even more irritated. “Because I know what the fuck this all means. Don’t even try to deny it. You are going to fuck off to God knows where and leave me here to handle everything.”

Castiel’s stare turned into a harsh, stony glare. “Sit down.” Cas’s voice was cold and hard and brooked no argument. Dean sat down, stifling his huff of annoyance. “Whatever is going on with you, whatever your issue, you are done taking it out on me. First you keep me at arms-length or blatantly ignore me. And now you think you have the right to attack me and yell at me.”

Dean shook his head and tried to placate Cas. “I'm not trying to attack you. I am just trying to…” His voice trailed off, and he threw his hands in the air.

“Dean calm down and tell me what’s wrong,” said Cas in a softer tone.

Without thinking, Dean reached over and took Cas’s hand, tracing a circular pattern into the palm. The indignation in Cas’s face disappeared. His expression softened much as his voice had. Dean felt his cheeks heat up, and he smiled shyly at Cas. “I miss Sammy. I miss the way it used to be. And I hate when you leave,” stated Dean, sighing heavily. “Cas, I am terrified something will happen to you. I don’t think you understand just how hard it is to stay here when you are out there risking your life. I don’t think you understand how much I need you here with me.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s hand as he shifted closer. “I–”

Dean yanked his hand free as he stood abruptly. Whatever words Cas had intended to say died on his lips. He stared up at Dean, eyes swirling with confusion and hurt. Dean hated the look and found himself unable to hold his friend’s gaze. He turned his head, focusing on the papers strewn across the table. He glared at them and all they represented. “I will never forget the sound of gunfire, Cas. I will never unhear the terror in your voice. I will never get over seeing you bruised and battered. And now you want to go…where is it this time, Cas? For fuck’s sake, you can’t even go to Hong Kong without coming home bloodied.” All the fight, all the anger bled out as Dean remembered the day he picked Cas up at the airport. The moment he spotted his friend and realized how much more severe his injuries were than what Cas had told him over the phone.

“I should have told you. I should have prepared you better.”

Scoffing, Dean said, “How exactly would you go about doing that? I know you are in danger. I know what you do can have consequences. I’ve known that since I was a kid, Cas. It doesn’t make it any easier to watch you walk out the door, and it certainly doesn’t make it easier to watch you walk back in hurt.” Dean stopped and took a deep breath. “And you aren’t getting out of answering my question. Where are you going?”

For a second, Dean thought Cas was done with the conversation. But after several moments of simply gazing up at Dean, Cas stood up and pulled Dean into a hug. With great effort, Dean tried not to sink into the comfort, but as usual when it came to Cas, he failed miserably. Cas’s arms were the place he felt most safe and, despite the years and his current frustration, that remained the truth. His body gave in before his mind caught up, dropping fully into Cas’s embrace. The strong arms around him tightened their hold and a whisper of breath slipped across his neck. It felt like coming home. “I wish I could tell you it won’t happen again,” uttered Cas.

“I know, but you’d be lying.”

“What I do can be dangerous, but I promise I do everything I can to keep myself safe.” One of Cas’s hands ran up Dean’s back. It came to rest on the back of Dean’s neck. “I will always do my best.”

“Then what happened, Cas. You went to Hong Kong to photograph a vigil for the Tiananmen Square massacre, and yet you came home almost two weeks late and injured.”

Cas stepped back but kept his hold on Dean. When their eyes connected, Dean didn’t bother trying to hide his tears. He let Cas wipe them away. He let him lead him back to the couch. He let him hold his hand as he began to speak. “With Sam and I taking off for Germany right after I got back, I guess we never got the chance to talk about it.” Cas’s eyes clouded over, and he shook his head. “Being there was important to me. What those students did thirty years ago needs to be remembered. Just as the current protests need to be recognized. I couldn’t leave when I realized how fast the situation on the ground was changing over the next few days. I had to cover the protests. And you know as well as I do that any protest can lead to violence. I just happened to be standing in the middle of it when it broke out. I more or less got run over after the police fired tear-gas and rubber bullets. But I was fine. It really was only minor injuries.”

“Well, I don’t care how minor you think they are. When you come home with stitches and fucking bruises down your back, you are not fine,” Dean asserted, voice cracking with sadness and leftover fear. He cleared his throat, plastered on a smile, and added, “Okay, I’ve had enough of this emotional crap, just tell me where and when.”

Cas looked back at him with a slight quirk of his lips, most likely due to Dean’s dramatic shift in mood. “I am not going anywhere for a while, and you already know about most of this. It’s been in the works for a long time, Dean, but with new and potential conflicts cropping up all over the world I have to keep abreast of the situation. Just because my top priority might be Yemen if I were to leave today doesn’t mean it still will be when I leave next year.”

“So, it is next year, for sure.”

“It is. Sam is graduated and at college. You’re graduating in a few months, and I have full confidence you will find a job. And Bobby assured me until you do, he will keep you on full-time. In fact, he may not say it out loud, but he is going to hate losing you.”

Dean nodded acknowledging Cas’s statement, even as the vice in Dean’s chest, the one that wrapped around his heart the second he saw the papers, tightened. The pain only worsened when he said, “Next year is pretty vague, Cas. When exactly are you planning on going?”

“When Sam returns home for the summer. We decided that would be the best time.”

Eyes going wide, Dean felt his body tense with newfound irritation. “There it is again. This mythical _we_. Who was it this time? I mean usually it’s you and Charlie, but the last few times you’ve included Sam and even, of all people, Gabe.”

“Dean,” said Cas forcefully. “I try to include you, but every time I try you brush me off or shut down. So, yes, I work out the details and make decisions with my other family and friends. And just so you know, this time the final decision on dates was strictly between Sam and me.”

If Cas thought that fact would calm Dean down, he was sorely mistaken. “When did Sammy become your go to?”

“When my best friend decided he could not handle it,” Cas said harshly. Dean blanched at both the words and the tone. Before he could say anything in response, Cas said, “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t want to argue with you.”

“I don’t want to either. And you’re right, I don’t handle it well.” Dean sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He dropped his head into his hands. “I’m sorry, too,” he whispered. “I'll try not to brush you off anymore.”

“And I will try to include you even if you push me away,” Cas said, smiling brightly.

 

Over the next month, they grew closer, resurrecting the ease of their earlier friendship. Dean found a way to temper his fears and really listen when Cas talked about his work. It wasn’t always easy, and at times he wanted to punch something or pull his hair out. Those moments erupted when his mind fixated on images of Cas in a war zone. It was why he was thankful Billie asked him to help plan her Halloween party. By the last week of October, he had succeeded in putting all thoughts of Cas’s future plans aside because the party planning had gotten a bit out of hand. When he tried to get Cas and Charlie to help, they both laughed. “Not a chance, Dean. The last time I helped, you had me running all over town, and I didn’t even have time to get a costume,” Charlie said with an exaggerated pout.  Cas didn’t even bother giving an explanation. He just shook his head and continued laughing as he left the room.

Dean finally enlisted Jo’s help, although he had to bribe her to get her to agree. “I can’t believe I'm agreeing to this. The party is at your house for fuck’s sake.”

“Hey, not my party and not my fault you’re just that desperate,” Jo chuckled as she shook the Impala’s keys in his face.

He cringed and had to fight back the urge to snatch them back. “Not a scratch.”

“Sure, Dean. I’ll be back in a couple hours with everything.” She jumped in the car and gave him a ridiculous salute before peeling out of the driveway. While she was gone, Dean and Billie set up the haunted house he had designed. By the time night fell, everything was miraculously ready and downright eerie. Dean couldn’t help but smile at the wide-eyed looks on people’s faces when they stepped through the front door. He was laughing and joking, and then everything froze. His own eyes went wide, and he almost dropped his drink.

Cas walked, no strutted, in the door. His hair was spiked up in a maddening disarray. His black tank top was skintight and riddled with holes. The black jeans he was wearing didn’t hide a damn thing. But what drew Dean’s gaze were Cas’s eyes. They were sparkling, encased in dark eyeliner. The air of confidence Cas exuded was downright astounding, and Dean was clearly not the only person who noticed. The wolf whistles and catcalls from all around him proved that fact. Even with the commotion, Dean couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

“You might want to quit gawking at Cas and go see your girlfriend.”

“Huh?”

“I said stop staring at Cas.” Dean slowly turned his head. Charlie was smirking up at him. “You might want to go say hi to your girlfriend.”

It was only then Dean noticed Carmen had entered the house behind Cas. She was giving him a calculating look, and it unsettled Dean further. Charlie nudged him forward which seemed to finally shake him out of his stupor. “Yeah, okay, I’ll do that,” he stammered. Charlie laughed as she stepped away from him. Dean could still hear her laughter as he approached Carmen.

He wrapped his arm around Carmen’s waist and gave her a quick kiss to her cheek. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.” Whatever had transpired at the door was brushed aside as they made their way through the crowd. They lingered by the bar with Victor and Jo. Two drinks in, Cas and Charlie joined them.

“You did a wonderful job, Dean,” said Cas, leaning close to Dean to be heard over the music.

“Thanks Cas.” With their close proximity, Dean found himself mere inches from Cas’s shoulder. “You never let your tattoo show, and where the heck did you get these clothes.”

Cas threw his head back and laughed. “These are the clothes I was wearing when I moved out of my mother's house.  The make-up was enough to give her an apoplectic fit, but I think the black wings were what sent her over the edge.” In a haughty, high pitched voice, he parodied, “ _Those are the wings of the devil, Castiel._ ” Dean stared at the set of wings inked into Cas’s skin. They were elegant and refined. Not something Dean would ever associate with the devil.

“They’re beautiful, Cas,” Dean expressed before he could reign in his tongue. Cas’s head snapped up, and his eyes locked on Dean. Without looking away, Dean added, “I can’t believe she said that to you. What would the voters think of the great Hester Novak if they heard that?”

“I’m sure the majority of her supporters would applaud.”

Dean laughed as he eyed Cas. “When you talked about your rebellious youth, I never quite pictured all of this. I have to say it suits you.”

“In what way?”

“Oh, come on. You heard the reaction when you walked in.”

With a smug expression, Cas said, “I did.”

Hours later they stumbled into the house alone. Victor had driven them home, dropping Carmen off first after she said something about early morning plans. When they had arrived at their house, Victor practically shoved them out of the car. “I am not helping you idiots. Get your own asses inside.”

They laughed and waved as they walked toward the house. Dean fumbled with the keys, but eventually opened the door. They bumped into each other as they practically fell through the door. Dean tried to get his feet under him, but it was a futile attempt. He ended up face first on the floor with Cas draped over his back.

“Not the most graceful entrance,” mumbled Cas against the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean felt his face flush, and he suddenly needed breathing room. “Um, Cas, wanna get off you’re not exactly light.”

“Sorry,” said Cas as he shakily stood up. He walked over and flopped himself down on the couch.

Dean joined him a moment later. “I don’t think stairs are possible at this point.”

“I concur.”

They woke up with stiff necks, and Dean groaned about never drinking again. And he, in fact, didn’t drink again until Sam was home on winter break.

 

Dean sat in his bed, leaning against the headboard, glass in hand, thinking about the past days and weeks. Picking Sam up at the airport and bringing him home. The look on Cas’s face when Sam walked in the door. The hug the three of them shared before they were interrupted by a slew of friends. Charlie and Gabe had taken it upon themselves to throw a party for Sam’s return. Their house was filled with all their friends and family, and it made Dean smile. It was why when it came time for cleanup the next morning Dean wasn’t upset by Charlie and Gabe’s disappearing act. He set to work after drinking a cup of coffee and eating a bagel. Cas joined him after he emerged from the shower. Sam was last to make it downstairs, but he pitched in after eating a quick bowl of cereal. Before Carmen arrived at ten, the entire house was spotless. She had whistled her approval, and Dean had smiled and took a bow. Before he even officially greeted her, Cas and Sam ducked out the door, talking about previous engagements. It frustrated Dean because his plan was to spend the entire day with Sammy. Thinking of it seemed to renew his frustration.

There was definitely something he had missed. Something he didn’t understand. He didn’t get why it was tense around the house some days and then so easy other days. He didn’t understand why Cas, who had promised to not work over the break, would suddenly need to go to work. None of it added up in that first week. Whatever it was had changed over the course of the final two weeks. Cas was always home, and Sam seemed less inclined to go out, inviting his friends to the house instead. Dean was more than happy to entertain them, if it meant his family was home. They played poker and video games. Watched movies and ate pizza. Dean cooked for them, insisting on sit down dinners some nights. Cas always smiled on those nights, and he had a serenity about him which Dean rarely glimpsed. For almost two whole weeks, Dean felt whole and happy, and he began to feel some of that serenity for himself.

It all shifted two days before Sam was scheduled to fly back to California. The house was a mess, and somehow the previous night Carmen’s jacket had gotten torn.

_“I don’t know how it got torn.”_

_“Dean, I just got back after two stressful weeks with my sisters.  I’m tired, and I just wanted to see my boyfriend, not deal with all this.” Carmen waved her arm, stopping to point out the mess._

_Dean walked over and picked up a couple of glasses. He tucked them under his arm and began collecting other items. As he walked to the kitchen, he said, “I wasn’t expecting you until later. I would have had this all cleaned up before you got here.” He looked over his shoulder at Carmen. “Sammy deserved one last night with his friends before he has to leave.”_

_“And you don’t live here,” yelled Sam from the top of the stairs._

_Dean slammed the dishes onto the counter. “Sam, I told you to stay out of it.” He waited until he heard Sam’s door slam before he walked back into the living room. “I’ll buy you a new jacket, and I'll let Sam clean all this up while we go get some lunch.”_

_Her frown vanished. “Sounds good.”_

_He thought that would be the end of it, but when he arrived home later Sam confronted him._

_“Dean, are you happy?”_

_“What do you mean? Of course, I’m happy.”_

_“You didn’t seem very happy today,” snapped Sam._

_“Yeah, well, today started off bad.”_

_Sam sat down on the couch and gestured for Dean to join him. Once Dean was seated, he said, “I want you to think about the last three weeks. Really think about it. About when you were happy and why you were happy. When life around here was simple and easy, and when it was tense and uncomfortable.” Dean sat up and opened his mouth to protest, but Sam cut him off. “Dean don’t try to deny it. Everyone noticed it. Even people who have only been here a few times, noticed. I think it’s time for you to really think about what it is you want.” He looked at Dean with solemn, soulful eyes as he added, “Before it’s too late.” He didn’t give Dean a chance to make a sound. He simply stood up, placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezed it, and walked away. And Dean was left trying to figure out what happened._

And he was still trying to figure it out two nights later. The glass of whiskey in his hand was refilled for the fifth time in the last half hour, and he was no closer to understanding what the hell Sam was trying to get him to see. Before he realized it, the glass was smashing into the far wall and whiskey was running down it. The door opened within seconds of the crash, and Cas came rushing in the room.

“Dean,” he said, voice laced with concern. “What happened?”

“I threw my fucking glass.”

“Yes, I can see that,” snarked Cas. “Mind telling me why.”

Dean deflated, dropping his head to his chest. “If I knew why, the glass would still be in my hand.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I threw it because I don’t know, okay. Sam said some cryptic shit, and I can’t wrap my head around what the hell he meant.”

Walking over to the bed, Cas stopped right next to Dean. He reached out and lifted Dean’s chin. “Why don’t you tell me what he said, and maybe I can help you?”

Dean wanted to drown in the genuine affection and compassion in Castiel’s eyes, but part of him knew he needed to solve this on his own. Sam had basically challenged him to do just that. So, instead of spewing his frustration and his confusion, he smiled up at his best friend. “Thanks Cas, but I think I need to figure this out on my own.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure at all.

 

And he was right to be doubtful because months passed without an answer. At first, the questions would come to mind whenever he had a free minute. He wracked his brain, reliving the holiday break, to no avail. The more he thought, the more ideas filtered in, adding to his irritation. Cas tried on a few occasions to get Dean to open up, but Dean rebuffed him every time. It didn’t help when several of the ideas centered around Cas. Those he shoved aside as soon as he felt a flicker of them. Because the one time he did not, he shuddered, overwhelmed by a strange sense of panic. He couldn’t attune to it. It was too much, so he boarded it up, locking away the stress-inducing questions and arrant thoughts. He ignored it all. Never asking himself what he wanted until it all fell apart.

Until he was standing staring at the back of his best friend as he walked out the door, bags in hand. Frozen, he could only watch the door close with a finality he did not want to accept. He had no idea how long he stood there before his legs gave out, and he crashed to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The situation in Hong Kong continues. When I started outlining this story, I pictured Cas as a teenager seeing the image of the lone man standing down the tanks in Tiananmen Square, and being inspired to pick up a camera. So I had to incorporate it into the story in some way. By using the Hong Kong protests in June of this year to allude to it, this chapter ends up delving into 2020 to accurately follow chronology.


	13. Sam Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is the beginning of the next phase of the story.

Sam had no idea what he would be walking into when he got home. He knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, considering the radio silence for the last week. From the one phone call Dean had accepted over the last week, Sam was worried, but when he talked to the others worry quickly became fear. Just the fact Carmen had called him to voice her concerns made him move his flight up. The second his last final was taken he was on his way to the airport. Since Dean refused to take his phone calls, Sam took an Uber. His tension increased the closer he got to home. It was nothing compared to what he felt when he walked in the door.

All the shades were closed, but Sam still caught a glimpse of the beer cans and liquor bottles on the coffee table. The Impala was in the driveway, so he knew his brother was home, but when he called out he received no response. With few options before him, he chose to climb the stairs. Dean’s bedroom door was closed, and there was no light shining from under it. Sam knocked gently, and when nothing happened, he knocked harder. He heard some muffled words but couldn’t discern what they were. He knocked sharply again and said, “I’m coming in.”

As he opened the door, Dean said, “Get out.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah, Dean. It’s me.”

Dean rolled over and cracked his eyes open. “It can’t be Sunday already.”

“No, I changed my flight. I left after my last final.”

“Why’d you do that?” mumbled Dean.

“Because I got calls from just about everyone in your life, including Carmen.”

Dean sat up, anger in every movement. “What the hell? I told them to leave you alone.”

Stepping further into the room, Sam scanned the room. It was different from the last time he was home, but what stood out the most was the odor. Shaking his head, he said, “We are not having this discussion in here. It smells like stale beer and sweaty socks. Get up. Take a shower and come downstairs. I’ll make you something to eat.” He turned and walked out before Dean spoke. He waited in the hall until he heard his brother grunt and groan as he climbed out of bed. With a tired sigh, he walked down the stairs, opened the shades, and picked up some of the bottles.

Once he was in the kitchen, he made Dean a ham and cheese sandwich. As he sat down at the table, he noticed this room wasn’t quite the same either. A dawning realization swept through his mind, making his heart heavy. The sound of footsteps drew his attention. Dark bags shadowed Dean’s eyes, and his shirt hung loosely on his thinner frame. It saddened Sam to see his older brother looking so broken. “Here, you need to eat.”

Sitting down, Dean pulled the plate in front of him and started to nibble at the sandwich. Sam waited for him to eat half of it before he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me Carmen moved in?”

“Because she didn’t,” said Dean with a look of utter confusion on his face. “What the hell made you think that?”

“Um…Dean. Her shoes and coat are by the front door. There are throw pillows on the couch and plants in the front window. There are teas, specialty coffees, and a Keurig on the counter. And women’s vitamins in the cupboard. Not to mention, the changes in your bedroom.”

For the first part of Sam’s list, Dean stared blankly, but by the end, he eyes sought out the items Sam mentioned. “Oh,” Dean said dumbfounded.

“Oh? Really? That’s your response.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. She doesn’t live here, but I guess she’s left some of her stuff here.”

Sam huffed in frustration. “Dean. Are you actually this clueless? You don’t accidently leave throw pillows or a whole bottle of vitamins. How did you not notice? Did you even talk to Cas about all this?” He waved his arm to encompass the kitchen and living room. A sharp inhale made Sam look back at his brother. Dean’s face had paled, and his eyes were filled with tears. “Dean,” whispered Sam, voice laced with concern.

“He left, Sammy. He’s gone.”

“I know, Dean.”

“He said he wasn’t leaving until summer, but he just packed his shit and left. No warning. No explanation.”

Sam reached out and gripped Dean’s forearm where it was resting on the table. “He came to see me two weeks ago when he was in California. He told me you two talked about him leaving earlier than planned.”

Laughing darkly, Dean pulled his arm free. “Oh sure, we talked. Or should I say he talked, but not nearly enough because I had no idea. I didn’t understand until…” Dean’s voice shook as he looked away.

“Until what?”

“Go see for yourself,” said Dean as he stood up and walked over to the cupboard. Pulling down a bottle of whiskey, he added, “His room says it all.”

Sam watched his brother, hoping he would face him. Dean, however, remained facing the counter. He poured a glass of whiskey and downed it in one go. When he went to fill it again, Sam decided he didn’t need to see anymore. He walked out of the room and bounded up the stairs. Opening Castiel’s bedroom door, he gasped in shock. Every item was boxed or bagged, even the bed was stripped. Sam sat down heavily, his mind whirling. Cas had come to see him. Had expressed the necessity of leaving months ahead of schedule. Had apologized about leaving before Sam would be home. Had made his goodbye, expressing his love for Sam and his pride in his accomplishments. But nowhere in his organized and composed speech had he said he was moving out. That he had packed his room and would not be returning.

“He put his bike in storage, and this shit will be gone soon. Charlie is scheduling the movers.”

Sighing Sam leaned back on his hands and looked up at his brother. Dean was leaning on the door jamb with the bottle in one hand and his glass in the other. “You know drinking isn’t going to fix anything.’

“Shut up. I don’t need to hear it from you, too.”

The closed off expression on Dean’s face made Sam reassess his approach. Angering his brother more was counterproductive. They needed to talk, and they needed to really hear each other. “Fine, I’ll drop it for now,” stated Sam.  Dean nodded and relaxed minutely. “I think you need to tell me what happened because when Cas came to see me, he never said he was leaving for good,” Sam said sadly.

Dean walked into the room and around the bed. He sat down and then backed up against the headboard. He leaned his head back against the wall, thunking it a few times. “Why do you think I know what happened?”

“Well, you have to know more than I do since you were here with him. And besides he’s your best friend.” Sam stared at Dean as he waited, but Dean simply closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. “Please, Dean, just tell me about it.”

The first words were whispered. “He was sad, Sammy. So, fucking sad.” When Dean opened his eyes and continued to talk, his voice was louder, but the emotion was gone. He delivered the story in a flat tone while staring at the ceiling.

_There was a heaviness to Cas as if he was carrying the weight of the world. He closed himself off in his room more than I ever remembered him doing. But there was no way he was sleeping because the bags under his eyes only grew darker. As did the vacant look in them. I don’t know how to explain it, other than to say he was depressed. At first, I didn’t even notice._

“I didn’t fucking notice,” said Dean angrily as he made eye contact with Sam. He held the gaze for only a fraction of a second before his eyes drifted back to the ceiling and the story began again.

_I didn't notice until Benny showed up. He hadn’t been around for a couple months. Off on some undisclosed mission, or whatever. The first thing he said once he and I were alone was, “What’s wrong with Cas?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Dean, he looks ten years older than the last time I saw him.” Benny sat forward on the couch. “Is he sick?”_

_The question confused me, even as it nagged at something inside, and made me waver. “He’s not sick."_

_Benny responded, “You don’t sound very convinced.”_

_Before Benny could say anymore, Cas walked back into the room. He sat down and put his feet up on the table, sighing deeply. I watched him, looking him over from head to foot.  I stared at Cas’s face. Unshaven. Haggard. Exhausted. It was there for anyone to see if they bothered to look, and clearly  I had not. It pained me. What had I missed and for how long?_

Brokenly, Dean said, “Sam, I was so wrapped up in myself, working and volunteering, that I didn’t…” Dean swallowed hard and then added, “But after Benny pointed it out it was obvious. I talked to Cas about it. He said he wasn’t sleeping well.”

Dean stared at Sam for a second and then shut his eyes, tone going dull again.

_We were sitting at a red light inside the Impala, radio turned down. There was no where for Cas to disappear, so I said, “You don’t look so hot. Are you not feeling okay?”_

“ _Dean, I’m fine, just a little insomnia.”_

_“Cas, you are very far from fine. I want to know what’s going on with you. Why aren’t you sleeping?”_

_As the light turned green, Cas said, “I’m thinking about work. Somethings have come up and my plans may need to change.”_

_“In what way?”_

_“In a way you won’t be happy with.”_

_I turned at the next corner and pulled over, put the car in park and said, “Talk to me.”_

_There was an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air around us until Cas said, “I know you’ve seen the news. I don’t think I can wait until summer.”_

_“And you were so worried about how I would react that you couldn’t sleep.”_

_Cas shrugged, “I suppose that was a factor.”_

_“If I promise not to overreact will you promise to get some sleep," I said with a little chuckle._

_“Of course, Dean.” Cas smiled and sat up straighter. “Julian called last night. He’s coming for a visit.”_

Dean’s voice was strained as he mentioned Julian. It was tight and pained, and Sam couldn’t understand what Julian had to do with any of this, so he said, “And that was a problem.”

“Not at that moment. I didn’t think anything of it other than that Cas was trying to change the subject.” Stopping Dean took a drink and went to refill his glass. Sam grabbed the bottle, and Dean glared at him. Sam glared right back, and for once Dean acquiesced without a comment.

Setting the bottle aside, Sam asked, “So what changed?”

“There wasn’t just one thing. I don’t know how to explain it. The whole week seemed strange,” huffed Dean as he banged his head on the wall, harder than before. “Julian is a nice guy. He’s funny, and he’s really good to Cas. So good, people kept asking assuming he was Cas’s boyfriend. Even Charlie started calling him that. I mean she said it jokingly, but…” Dean sat up and put his feet on the floor. “It didn’t really seem like a joke. Cas smiled and laughed. The dark circles went away. I’m not saying he was suddenly all better, but he was definitely happier.”

Sam sat back, staring at the tight set of Dean’s shoulders and the sadness permeating from it. There was such despair as he talked about Cas and Julian, even when he admitted Cas was happier. “Dean, do you hear yourself?”

“What?” asked Dean, voice muffled by the hand rubbing down his face.

“Why are you upset Cas was happier?”

“I’m not,” denied Dean, but there was uncertainty under the surface of the words. “I’m not,” he repeated even more tentatively. He turned to look at Sam, and his face dawned with realization. “Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?” Sam stayed silent. His brother needed to find his own way to the truth. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

“No.”

“Well, thanks for the help then,” said Dean, voice dripping with sarcasm. He stood up and walked out of the room. Sam heard his heavy lumbering steps as he went down the stairs. After one last glance around Cas’s room, Sam followed his brother. “Are you hungry?” asked Dean when he spotted Sam.

“I will eat after you finish telling me about Julian’s visit,” insisted Sam.

“And if I say _no_?” asked Dean dramatically.

Sam frowned at him before taking a seat on the couch. “I’ll wait.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk,” said Sam with a smirk.

“Fine, you win, Sammy.” Dean sat down on the opposite end of the couch and put his feet up on the center cushion. “Things were already feeling strange, but then I overheard a conversation between them. I’m not sure how it started, but Julian was telling Cas to put his needs first. He said he needed to be willing to take comfort when it was offered and not wait anymore.”

“What did Cas say?”

“He tried to argue with him, but then Julian said, _The writing is on the wall, Castiel. It is time to accept it and start the next phase of your life._ Cas stopped arguing after that. I could hear him crying. When I snuck up to get a glimpse, Julian was holding Cas. It was painful to watch. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Cas look so defeated. I needed to walk away, but before I could Cas said, _Yes, it’s time._ Next thing I know, Cas says he’s leaving in ten days. He said he was putting his stuff in storage, and Charlie would take care of everything after he was gone. He wouldn’t answer my questions. He just kept repeating, _It's time_. As if that explained why he was moving out and leaving.” Dean grabbed his knees, knuckles white with the pressure. “I pleaded with him, Sammy. I freakin’ begged him not to go. I was so angry and frustrated, and then I was just completely baffled by the whole thing. And now I…” Dean’s voice cracked. After clearing his throat, he whispered, “I feel broken.”

Sam shifted slightly, bringing one of his knees up onto the couch. It touched Dean’s foot, but the touch didn’t seem to register with him in the slightest. “He never said anything?” asked Sam.

“Oh, he said some shit the day he left. Some crap about finishing what he started. Fulfilling his promise to Mary and to us. Something about you being in school and being all grown up. And then he said some shit about me. Said I had found my own life, a future, and it was time he did the same.”

There was little Sam could do but stare at Dean. He had warned his brother after all. He had told him not to wait too long.

“What is it, Sam? Clearly you have an opinion you are trying not to share.”

“You need to figure this out, Dean. Think about everything we’ve talked about since I found you in your room. Really think about it and think about what I asked you when I was home over winter break.” Sam stood up and walked over to Dean. He gripped his brother's shoulder firmly. “Just think about it.” He went to the kitchen and started cleaning. As he was finishing up, he heard Dean walk in behind him.

“He left because of me. Because I didn’t pay attention. Because he thought I was moving on and starting a life with Carmen.”

Sam turned around to find Dean wide-eyed and jittery. “Dean,” said Sam with concern.

“No, Sam. I screwed up. You tried to warn me, and I didn’t fucking listen. I was too afraid of the answers, so I buried my head in the sand. I ignored every sign. All of it. From Carmen to his depression to Julian’s visit. Until he was gone, I didn’t look at it. I let her practically move in without a single conversation. Not with her and certainly not with Cas. How could he take it any other way? He thought it was time. Time to go. Time to leave me to my life. But he didn’t know he was my life. He didn’t know I love him.”

They had both been so engrossed in their conversation, they neglected to notice they had an audience. “I knew it,” said Carmen, matter-of-factly.

“Carmen, I-”

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” she said cutting Dean off. “I wondered at times over the years, but once he left. God, Dean, you acted like your spouse died. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“He didn’t know,” said Sam when he saw Dean floundering. In the next breath, he thought he should leave the two of them alone, but two sets of hard stares kept him in his place.

“What does that mean?”

Dean finally turned to face her, and their eyes connected. “It means I never let myself know. Sam tried to get me to see it. I think Charlie did a few times as well. But I was too…”

“Stubborn,” said Carmen with a huff.

“More like stupid,” he said. “I’m sorry, Carmen.”

“We never promised each other anything Dean. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Sam stared at her, amazed by her response. “You’re taking this rather well.”

“I knew Dean wasn’t my forever. I don’t love him, and he doesn’t love me. We had fun together, but we were never really close. You relied on Cas for anything important. That should have probably been my first clue.”

Dean laughed, and then he laughed some more. His face was red by the time he calmed down enough to say, “Mine, too. Man, I was an idiot.” He stood up and walked over to Carmen. “What happens now?”

With a slight shrug, she said, “Now, Sam is going to find me some boxes, so I can pack my things.” She sounded a bit defeated beneath her attempts to appear nonchalant. Sam wondered if Dean had recognized it, too. He got his answer when he looked at Dean and saw pain etched on his face. It was that more than Carmen’s request which made him stand and leave the room. “Don’t look at me like that, Dean,” Carmen said while Sam was making his way up the stairs.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that. And it will all be for the best in the end. Maybe now I can get my friendship back with Cas and Sam will stop hating me.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open, and before he could silence himself, he said, “I never hated you. I just hated what it was doing to Cas. He’s my family.”

“Sammy stop eavesdropping,” yelled Dean. In a slightly quieter voice, he asked, “And what do you mean about Cas?”

There was a moment where Sam was completely and utterly confused by his brother’s question. But suddenly it dawned on him. Dean only understood his half of the story. He hadn’t yet figured out all of Castiel’s side. He hadn’t realized the true reason Cas left. He only saw it as Cas giving him room to live his life. His first inclination was to blurt out the entirety of his knowledge on the subject. To spill every last observation, he had over the years and to repeat the conversations he shared with Cas. Before he could even move on to another option, Carmen said, “Sam, come down here. You need to talk to your brother. I’ll get the boxes.”

Sam took a deep breath as he made his way back down the stairs. “There are some extra boxes in Cas’s room.” Carmen nodded as she passed him. Once she was gone, Sam’s gaze fell on Dean. He looked shell-shocked as he stared at Sam over the back of the couch.

“What’s going on, Sam? What do you know that I don’t? And no cryptic crap this time. No waiting for me to figure it out,” pleaded Dean.

Instead of sitting on the couch, Sam dropped into the armchair. “This has never been my story to tell. You get that, right?”

Dean nodded, even as he said, “Well, he’s not here to tell it, so that leaves you.”

“This first time I started really thinking about it was on our trip right after you graduated high school. Cas tackled you on the trail and then there was this weird moment. At the time, I didn’t quite understand it even as I stepped away to give you privacy. But it was the first of many similar moments. The older I got the more I began to understand. There was an intimacy in your interactions with Cas, especially when you thought you were alone. I don’t know how many times I walked into a room only to back out after seeing how you were looking at each other. It grew harder to keep it to myself. And once I started seeing it, I noticed other things. The way you would lean against each other, and the soft touches you shared. I never really put it all together until I overheard Charlie pushing Cas to move on and date. It was when I saw him on one of those dates and discovered he was gay that it all made sense. I wanted to confront the two of you, but Linda talked me out of it.” Dean’s raised eyebrows made Sam add, “Kevin was with when I figured it out, so he suggested I talk to his mom. After listening to her advice, I figured I should leave it alone, but then one night Cas was holding you and the look in his eyes. The raw emotion. I knew he had feelings for you, decidedly non-platonic feelings. I confronted him, but he told me to let it go. To let you find your own path in life, so I did, until my surgery.” Sam paused, remembering the day in the hospital. How his conversation with Cas mimicked the first time he asked about it. And how Cas once again closed the door, but this time with a finality Sam felt to his core. Sadness washed over him as the image of Cas’s sad, but resolved expression, came to mind.

“Sammy, what exactly happened in the hospital because you look…” Dean’s voice broke, and he didn’t continue.

Not able to keep his distance anymore, Sam joined Dean on the couch. He reached out and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “He saw you with Carmen, and he was devastated. I knew then it was why he had started taking more trips for work. And then the night you told us you couldn’t take the trip to Germany, he told me you had found your own life. I knew he was going to leave eventually, but that night I knew it would be sooner rather than later and it would be more permanent.”

Dean exhaled loudly. “If he...all these years, why didn’t he tell me?”

“The night he was holding you, you called him brother. He didn’t think there was any point telling you about his feelings when you saw him as a brother.”

The dam broke, tears streamed down Dean’s face. He dropped his head into his hands. “I blew it. All this time, I could have had…” He lifted his head and looked at Sam. “He’s not coming back. I’m too late.”

“No, you're not going to just give up. Cas is our family and if you want a life with him, then you need to fight for him. And we are going to start by calling Charlie and canceling the movers.”


	14. Cas, Memories, and Syria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late. The current situation in Syria, Turkey's offensive, made me have to rewrite the bulk of the chapter. Since this was late, I am giving you all the first glimpse of my DCBB fic in the end notes.

A light streaming across his face woke Cas from a fitful sleep. Searching, he found the source when his eyes settled on the small window. The plane was banking as it was preparing to land, and all Cas could see was a vast sea of water. He took a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes and assess himself. His body, plagued by exhaustion, felt heavy and lethargic, even as his mind raced through his next steps. Three planes, two long layovers, fourteen hours of flight time, and he was still not at his final destination. The jolt of the plane landing cut off any further thought. It wasn’t long before he exited the aircraft and made his way into the Beirut-Rafic Hariri International Airport. Not that many years ago, Lebanon would have been a nation on Castiel’s list, but it was one of the few nations to find a measure of stability in the midst of a chaotic Middle East.

Making his way to the baggage claim, Cas mentally prepared his next moves. His hotel was already booked and if all had gone well, his Syrian contact would be waiting for him. All he needed to do was get his bags and a taxi. The ride into the city center was not long, and before he knew it Cas was dropped in front of his hotel. The city bustled around him as he approached the door. Once inside, he approached the front desk and inquired about his reservation, even before he finished talking an older gentleman gestured to him. When he focused on the man, he immediately recognized Mahdi. Cas gave him a quick nod and a slight smile.

With keys in hand, he closed the small distance between them. “It’s so good to finally see you again.”

“You as well,” said Mahdi in heavily accented English.

“Did you run into any trouble at the border?”

“Not this time,” he said, shaking his head. After glancing around, he whispered, “Your visa should work, but if I hear otherwise, I will make the necessary arrangements.”

Cas wanted to ask about those arrangement, but from previous experiences knew the question would go unanswered at best or sow suspicion at worst. Instead, he simply differed to Mahdi, accepting his word as is. They dropped into an amicable conversation, saving any further serious talk until they reached the room.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Cas asked, “Any news in the last twenty hours.”

A pained expression came over Mahdi’s tanned, weathered face. “The bombing continued through the night and extended further south.”

“You got your family out,” asked Cas with trepidation.

“Yes, all of them are here in Beirut. Thanks to you, Castiel.”

Cas shook his head emphatically. “All I did was fund it.”

“Without those funds, they would be in a refugee camp.” Mahdi stared at Cas with determination and gratitude. “The camps are being overrun. We haven’t seen this level of escalation in months. There isn’t anywhere safe in the north anymore.”

The only words that came to Cas’s mind were ‘I’m sorry’, but he knew it would offer little comfort. The decisions of his own government had created the opening for Turkey’s offensive, so it would in some ways seem disingenuous to offer his sympathies. What he could offer was his camera. His dedication to telling Mahdi’s story and the story of his people. So instead of offering platitudes, Cas got down to work. He took out his materials and research and spent the better part of the next hour going over details with Mahdi. They only stopped when Cas’s stomach growled. Without a word, they cleaned up the small table and made their way from the room.

It was midday, and the sun was shining brightly when they existed the hotel. Cas hadn’t been to the Middle East since the early stages of the Iraqi Civil War six years ago. Dean had tried on several occasions to get him to talk about his year covering ISIS and its destructive path across Iraq and Syria, but Cas never wanted to revisit the brutality he witnessed. He didn’t want to discuss the notoriety he earned by being one of the first journalists on the ground or the award he won for the images he captured in the conflict’s earliest days. Or the ones he captured in the darkest of days. He had successfully pushed it aside and boxed it away until recently. The door opened a crack when the book idea first came to him and kept creaking open with each passing day, but it flew wide open the second he boarded the plane. Walking down the street, knowing he would be heading back into the fray tomorrow, he felt the long-buried sadness and the overarching pain.

“Are you all right?” asked Mahdi.

“Just memories.”

“Ahh…let us eat and talk and put them back where they belong.”

Cas smiled at Mahdi’s willingness not to press for more information. He knew Cas’s history as Cas knew his, which allowed for some level of understanding and camaraderie. “Let’s” said Cas with a weak but appreciative smile.

 

Hours later as he lay in bed, alone in his hotel room, Cas’s mind refused to rest, consumed by blood, battered bodies, desolate lands, guns and artillery, destruction and beheadings. The only recourse was to slide himself into other memories. Memories of home and family. Memories of Sam, Charlie, Julian, and, of course, Dean.

_“Cas, you have to talk to him. You need to spell it out for him.”_

_“I already have,” said Cas. “He knows.”_

_“Does he know why?”_

_Cas frowned at Sam. “Of course, he knows why. It’s been in the news.”_

_“I don’t mean…” Sam stopped and took a deep breath. “Cas, come on, you know what I meant.”_

_Downing the beer, Cas sat down on Kevin’s bed and stared at his friend, his brother, his family. “Why would I tell him now of all times? There is absolutely no reason to saddle him with my unwanted feelings before I take off to a war zone.”_

_“You’re dead wrong.”_

_“We are never going to agree on this so please can we drop it.” Cas stared at Sam imploring him to understand the seriousness of the request. When Sam gave a minute nod, Cas said, “Besides I came to visit you before I leave for God knows how long.”_

_At this, Sam smiled, and they fell into a light banter._

He smiled at the memory of those few days with Sam before his mind supplied another goodbye.

_“I’ll take care of it, Cas. You don’t need to worry about any of it. The only thing I want you to worry about is yourself. You can’t be thinking about everything back here when you are over there.”_

_Cas sighed as he leaned his head on the top of the couch. “I know, Charlie, but that is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Leaving him was devastating. Of all the times I thought about that moment, it was never like that. He looked crushed and completely blindsided.”_

_Charlie frowned at him. “But you told him. He knew you were going.”_

_“I told him, but Dean only hears what he wants sometimes. And I guess this was one of those times.” Cas turned his head and looked at his friend. “I wanted to turn around and walk back into the house. I wanted to tell him I’d stay. Maybe I-” That was as far as he got before he heard a deep male voice._

_“No, Castiel. There is no going back.” Julian walked in the room, carrying three plates._

_As he handed Cas his plate, Cas said, “I still can’t believe you’re here. How were you able to get more time off?”_

_“I just did, and I knew I was needed here. And it appears I was right, if you are already thinking about going back.”_

_Setting his plate on the side table, Cas looked at Julian and then at Charlie. He wondered exactly when his friends had made the decision and whose idea it was because there was no doubt they had conspired to get Julian here. It irked him, but at the same time, it made him smile. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your support. Both of you.”_

_“Where else would I be when my bestie needs me?” said Charlie as she pulled Cas into a hug. “And I need to go over a few things. I'm lu_ _cky we were able to find Mahdi, and he was able to provide some kind of ground transport, even if he can’t give me the details.”_

_“I’m not sure lucky is the right choice of word,” said Julian._

_“No, I suppose it’s not. Not when you consider what he has been through.”_

_“What is the latest report?” asked Julian_

_“The casualties are higher than first suspected. It looks like it was more than one bomb.” Cas pulled up an email on his phone. “Aaron said several aid organizations are having to pull out and, of course, warned me not to go.” Cas read through the email for the third time. The situation in Syria had escalated over the last six months. Since the president’s decision to remove American troops, Northern Syria had been bombarded by Turkey. There was no easy way in or out, but Cas would not be swayed. “I know he means well, but he knows, you all know, this is my job. I should have went as soon as Turkey went on the offensive.”_

_“All right, we are not doing that,” said Charlie as she smacked Cas on the arm. “We are looking forward, not back. Do you have everything packed and ready? We have to leave here by five tomorrow morning.”_

_“Yes, everything’s ready,” said Cas as he rubbed his arm, feigning injury. He gestured at the dishes. “We should get this cleaned up. I need to get to bed soon.”_

_Charlie woke him in the morning, practically dragging him from the bed. After a quick cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, they piled in the car. At the airport, tears streamed down Charlie’s face. “I love you. Please come home, whole, no injuries.”_

_“I love you, too, Charlie. I will do my best to fulfill your wishes.”_

_She stepped back out of his arms, and Julian occupied the space, gripping Cas’s shoulders. “Keep your head over there. Don’t through yourself into unnecessary danger, no one photo is worth your life.”_

_“I know,” said Cas with gravity as he pulled his friend in for a tight hug._

Cas sighed, feeling a faint touch of arms wrapped around him, but they weren’t the arms he wanted to feel. The ones he had pushed his way out of even as they tried to cling to him, tried to hold him back. The ones determined to keep him from walking out the door. The ones belonging to the only man Cas had ever loved and was beginning to suspect would ever love. The arms of the man he called family.

_“Cas, please don’t go. Not like this.”_

_Steeling himself against Dean’s pleading, Cas said, “I have to go, Dean.”_

_“Why now? Why like that?” Dean said as he gestured at the stairs._

_Cas pictured the stacks of boxes in his bedroom and knew with certainty those, more than anything, were the cause of Dean’s pain and confusion. He also knew there was little he could do to assuage those feelings, so he found himself saying words he’d fallen back on too often recently, “Because it’s time.”_

_Dean literally stomped his feet as he said, “You keep saying that, but I have no idea what the hell it means.”_

_Unwilling to make eye contact, Cas stared at Dean’s feet, watching his weight shift back and forth between them. The room around them seemed to shift in similar fashion. The tension moving in waves, never resting as it built to new heights. Cas wanted desperately to alter its path, halt its progression, but to do that he would have to give in. He would have to stay, and he just couldn’t. Not now. Not anymore. With a sad smile, he whispered, “It means it’s time for change. You have your life, and now I need to go find mine.”_

_“But…I don’t understand…”_

_Cas held back his tears as he said, “I know you don’t, but you will, eventually.”_

_“And what if I don’t want to understand. What if I just want you here?” Dean’s voice cracked as he added, “No matter what.”_

_A sob tore through Cas’s throat. Choking it back with tremendous effort, Cas said, “That is no longer your choice.” When he finally forced himself to lift his head, the broken expression on Dean’s face, the utter devastation, forced the sob out. Tears fell from his eyes, matching those streaking Dean’s freckled cheeks. His body, without his knowledge, closed the distance between them. By the time his brain caught up, his hands were reaching for Dean, ready to engulf him in a hug. If he let his body win, his mind would follow. He would not leave. He knew it, and he saw the same recognition in Dean’s eyes. Dropping his hands, he quickly stepped back. “I’m sorry, Dean.”_

Cas sat up in the bed, body tense from the memory and the dark feelings that had washed over him when he turned his back on Dean and walked out the door. The pain lacing through his heart when he had stepped down the front steps and waited for his ride to arrive. He never once looked back, not even when he heard Dean’s sobs or his body hit the floor.

The tightness in his chest stole his breath as it had done that day. He forced himself to take a breath as Charlie had done the moment he sat down in her car that day. With each breath, he calmed. The vice loosened but never faded completely. He realized he would get no sleep if he did not reach out. He could not leave things the way they were. They both deserved better. They were family after all.

Picking up his laptop, he opened his email and began to write. When he finished, he felt lighter and more settled. He set the laptop aside, curling up in the bed, ready for sleep to take him.

 

Waking in the early dawn hours, Cas felt the most rested he had in days. It didn’t make sense with what lay ahead or with what lay behind. But somehow, despite it all, he had found a measure of peace in his decision. The emails he had sent helped as did the dreams of happier days. He wondered if his body and mind were preparing him for the difficulties he was set to face in the days and weeks ahead. Exhaustion would only compound any issues he would face. Rest was essential, especially since he knew it would be hard to come by once he crossed into Syria. Before he even finished his contemplation, there was knock on the door.

Mahdi was waiting anxiously in the hall, eyes constantly searching. When he stepped in the room, he said, “American visas are being declined today. We need to leave at once.” No other explanation was given, and Cas didn’t hesitate. His bags were packed, except for the clothes he had laid out the night before. He dressed rapidly and within minutes was following Mahdi out the door. Leaving Beirut for Syria was leaving vibrancy for devastation. Where Beirut was filled with life, restaurants, clubs, bustling activity, Syria was filled with craters, debris, tents, and wandering souls. War had raged in the country for ten years. Assad’s regime and his forces against numerous rebel factions. ISIS and terrorist organization using human shields. Cities destroyed by war, unable to truly rebuild before the next conflict. And now once again the nation was at war. Turkey’s Operation Peace Spring brought with it a renewal of war. Despite its positive name, the operation was invasive. Laying siege to Northern Syria, displacing citizens, empowering terrorist groups, endangering Kurds and emboldening Russia and Iran.

As they drove, the dichotomy of life in the Middle East was laid bare before them. The border crossing was nerve-wracking, but nothing Cas had not experienced before. Inside Syria, there was a tension not present in Lebanon, palpable in the air and in the body language of those they met along the way. it was bred by uncertainty and underneath that fear. Once they reached Damascus, some of the tension eased. The city was little touched by war, and the people went about their day. A bombing just weeks before forgotten and buried under the need to live life. They stayed only long enough to join with others making their way north. The further they traveled along the road to Aleppo the more visible was the aftermath of war. An ongoing civil war which the world would brush aside for months or years at a time.

Hungry and tired, they stopped in Homs. The city had been a stronghold for the rebels until it was subdued in 2015. Now it was a shell of its former self. Images of President Assad dotted the buildings, reminding those that had not fled the city who was in control. It irked Cas because like so many dictators before him, Assad was enamored with himself, to the point little else mattered but the power he wielded. Mahdi raised an eyebrow at him when he heard the heavy sigh Cas had failed to keep from escaping. “They are all the same,” said Cas. “Some may kill more or expand more or enjoy the brutality more, but in the heart of it they are all the same.”

“Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” said Mahdi, using the much-quoted phrase.

Cas looked out the window as they came to a stop. When he looked back at Mahdi, he said, “No matter the iteration of that phrase it is as apt today as it would have been in the time of the absolute monarchs.”

“Ahh…we know better than most,” Mahdi said with quiet retrospection. “These lands never seem to be free of it. We rid Arabia of one such leader and another rises.”

With a quick nod of agreement, Cas opened the door and stepped out of the car. The area they were in was a section of the city which had seen little shelling. The restaurant appeared to have gone untouched. Their meal was a quick affair, and before long they were back on the road. Parts of the city were still little more than shells, shattered buildings and piles of debris. The road north had not faired much better. Craters dotted the landscape. As they went, fewer cars traversed the road. Desolation was the only word to describe it.

Pulling into Aleppo late in the afternoon, Cas barely recognized the city. The last major city to fall to Assad’s troops sat on the edge of the rebel’s last strongholds, the provinces of Idlib and Hama. He would be traveling into Idlib in the morning. A place Mahdi described as a slice of hell on earth.

“Come, Castiel. My friend is waiting for us with a hot meal.”

“Sorry, this is just so…” Cas’s voice trailed off unsure of how to phrase what he was feeling.

“You have not been here for a long while, Castiel. It is no wonder you cannot tear your eyes away from it. But for those of us who live it, we barely see it anymore. It is in our periphery, a remembrance long buried under the rubble.”

As Cas listened to Mahdi espouse on his homeland, he heard the poet. The writer he no longer claimed to be. A vocation he claimed was as buried in rubble as the city surrounding them. When Mahdi paused to take a breath, Cas said, “You may not publish anymore, but you will forever be a writer, my friend.”

Mahdi chuckled, “Hmm…perhaps you are right.” The low hum of artillery and the crack of gunfire was their backdrop. A sound Cas knew would soon fall into his periphery, always there but rarely attuned to by his conscious mind. Mahdi seemed to sense the shift in Cas’s thoughts. “What you are hearing is the latest skirmish in Idlib. After the bombing, the fighting spread in the province. It creeps closer to Aleppo every day. With Assad’s troops occupied at the border, the rebels see their chance to retake the city.”

His friend’s words matched all Cas had learned over the last months, but somehow it sounded more ominous standing in this place. Cas inhaled sharply as Mahdi stepped over to him and held out his arm, gesturing the path ahead. It was fitting, in a way, to follow Mahdi as his name meant guided. So, Cas let the man guide him to his friend’s home, one of the only still standing without a blemish. The sky behind them lit up as the door opened in front of them. “Another bomb,” said the man, Mahdi had introduced as Karam. “Too many to count these days.”

“It will be here soon,” Mahdi added.

Cas refrained from commenting, knowing it was unnecessary. There was little anyone could say when it came to war. The bustle of activity inside the home soon drew his attention anyway. To his surprise, the house was filled with children. “You didn’t,” said Cas as he looked at Mahdi with wide eyes.

“You are here for the children of war, Castiel. Well, here they are.”

And no truer words could have been spoken. Children battered and broken. Disheveled and hungry. Orphaned and scarred. His eyes first caught on a young girl, missing both her legs, smiling up at him with kindness. Hidden behind the kindness was a heavy weariness and a deep sadness. No child should, under their bright eyes, have dark bags discoloring their face, but hers was just the first of many to display such a sight. Cas smiled at her before shifting his gaze to a young boy sitting on the floor. At first, he appeared unhurt, but when he turned, Cas saw the large bandage covering one side of his face. It didn’t stop there. Each child had their own story to tell, written in the wounds to their body and the damage to their soul, seen through the guarded, vacant, or pained expression in their eyes. Cas had seen it before, but here in this place, surrounded by warmth and light and the scent of spices, it hit him harder. It made him wonder how humanity could be so dark and so bright at the same time. How it could tear the world asunder even as it rebuilt from the rubble. It made his mind sift through history, seeing this story, written over and over again with no end in sight. Never learning, always forgetting. It was what humanity seemed destined to do. And the price was always to be paid by those far from power. Those without armor, without a voice. The mirror images of the children in this room, compounded and magnified and spread across the globe, no place left untouched by the heartbreak of endless conflict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ones We Choose - DCBB 2019 posting October 22, art by lotrspnfangirl 
> 
> After telling his family he’s gay, Castiel winds up homeless. With the help of his best friend, Cas finds himself a home and a new family. He also finds himself in love with his best friend. A love that endures no matter the circumstances of their lives, even in the wake of Dean’s rejection. 
> 
> Despite knowing how Cas feels, Dean clings to his best friend through the years. In high school and college, as roommates. Through Cas becoming a firefighter and his own journey to become a business owner. With shared time and space, Dean begins to see Cas in a new light. His attraction grows, along with his feelings. 
> 
> Letting those feelings spill out one night, Dean changes the trajectory of their lives. As their relationship grows, they are confronted by Cas’s past and must relive a painful and damaging event in Dean’s life. But it is the devastating fire, which is their greatest challenge, making them face their deepest fears and test the strength of their love.


	15. Dean and Boxes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter, but I was finishing up my DCBB fic, [The Ones We Choose](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20833847/chapters/49525562). It is officially posted so I can get back to concentrating on this story. Hopefully that means I will meet my deadlines. Thanks to all of you for your kudos and comments. And once again welcome to the new batch of readers. Hope you enjoy this bit of Dean's POV.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled Dean’s attention away from the phone in his hand. When he turned, he found Carmen staring at him with a couple of boxes in her arms, wobbling precariously. Before he could get to her Sam was at her side taking the top box. Dean stood up and walked over to join them, trying to think of something to say. His discomfort must have been on full display because Carmen said, “How about you help me pack up the things I have down here and Sam can get the rest from upstairs?”

Sam nodded his agreement, leaving hastily. He looked back over his shoulder, catching Dean’s eyes. He looked as if he was trying to smile reassuringly, but it was closer to a grimace. Dean waved him off with a slight shake of his head. “Yeah I can do that,” he said as he turned his attention to Carmen. They worked in silence until they were carrying items out to her car. Dean stopped her with a hand to her elbow. “I wish I could explain myself better.”

“There’s no need. I feel the same. I feel like I should be more upset or more shocked, but I’m just not. And I wonder what that says about me.” She shook her head before letting her eyes rake over the house. “I think I wanted this to be it. I hate where I’m living and I wanted out. This seemed the logical choice.”

“I think maybe that says it all,” Dean said with a sigh. “I think we both wanted it to be easy and simple and it was.”

“It was that, but it wasn’t passionate or fulfilling.”

Dean laughed, half-heartedly and a bit painfully. “No, it wasn’t. And I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“We have established you are clueless.”

Dean wanted to argue, but the definition fit him to a tee. “True.”

“I mean not knowing you are in love with someone is…” Carmen trailed off, filling the space with a smirk. The conversation slipped away and they proceeded to load the car. It wasn’t long after when she said quietly, “What are you going to do?”

For a second Dean thought about not answering, unsure if it was fair to her but realized she wanted and deserved to know. “I’m going to fight for him.”

“Good,” she said as Sam came barreling out of the house, arms fully loaded. The three of them finished loading Carmen’s belongings. She gave them a quick hug and was gone.

Sam waited until they reentered the house before he started in on Dean. “Don’t put this off. You need to call Charlie.”

Frowning Dean said, “And why do you assume I wasn’t planning to?”

Sam’s face was the definition of smug when he said, “Because I know you and you find a way to talk yourself out things that make you happy. And since Cas isn’t here to prevent it, I’m stepping up to the challenge.” Smacking Dean on the back, he added, “Now make the call.”

Not willing to analyze that bit of information, Dean took out his phone and called Charlie.

“Hello.”

“Hey Charlie.” He paused, nervous tension running through his body.

“Dean?”

“Sorry, yeah, um…I need you to cancel the movers,” Dean said, voice shaky. His words were met by dead silence, so he pulled back to check if the call had dropped. _Still connected_ , he thought before saying, “Charlie, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Her voice was quiet and hesitant. “Dean have you talked to Cas.”

“Uh…no. Not since he left.”

“I’m coming over,” she said in a rush. The call ended before Dean could respond or even think about the implications of her words. He shook his head, dazed and confused until worry crept into his thoughts.

“What happened?” asked Sam, voice laced with concern.

“She’s coming over.”

“Okay, that doesn’t explain why you’re as white as a sheet.”

Dean looked toward the door before facing Sam. “She asked if I’d heard from Cas. He always checks in at least once a week, and I’ve been so busy drinking I didn’t even realize it’s been over a week. What if he’s…?”

Sam grabbed Dean’s hand, still clutched around the phone. “We don’t know anything, yet, so let’s not jump to conclusions.” Dean nodded, walked into the kitchen and busied himself with preparing a snack. He was still in the kitchen when Charlie burst in the front door. He heard Sam greet her and realized hiding out was no longer an option, so he joined them in the living room.

“What do you mean you haven’t talked to Cas?” asked Charlie continuing their phone conversation as if no time had passed. “How is that possible? He told me he was going to contact you.”

Dean sat down on the couch, limbs feeling heavier than normal. “When?”

“He emailed me when he was in Beirut, told me to cancel the movers because he didn’t like how he left things with you, and he needed to talk to you. He made it clear he was going to contact you.”

The tension in the room ratcheted up just as Charlie’s voice grew more strained the longer she talked. The couch dipped next to him when Sam sat down, joined quickly by Charlie. No one spoke for several seconds until Sam, ever the pragmatist, said, “Dean, is it possible you missed the call or ignored it? You have been drinking quite heavily since he left.”

Dean watched Charlie’s eyes widened as she stifled a gasp. Shrugging, he conceded the point while blatantly skipping over Charlie’s emotional response. He checked his phone but saw no evidence of a missed call from overseas. “No calls,” he said flatly.

“What about your email?” asked Charlie.

He held his breath as he opened his email, exhaling sharply when he saw two emails from Cas. Tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill over.

“I take it that’s a no,” said Sam.

Shaking his head vigorously, Dean felt the tears spill down his cheeks. “There’s two,” he said, voice choked with relief. He looked up to find two sets of eyes fixated on him. “Um…would you mind…I’d like…”

“Dean, it’s fine. We’ll go…” Sam gestured at the kitchen. “Get some drinks and food.”

Through a fog, completely forgetting he had prepared snacks for them, Dean said, “You do that.” As soon as they were out of the room, he opened the first email.

_Dear Dean,_

_I made it to Beirut and met Mahdi. We will be leaving for Syria tomorrow. God, that sounds so formal and impersonal.   This is not meant to be an official check-in, but I think I’ve forgotten how to talk to you lately. Life seems to have gotten away from me in more ways than I can count. I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t want to leave the way I did, but I had no idea what else to do. Listening is not your forte, especially when the subject is one you hate. And I know you hate when I leave, but my job is part of who I am. Without it I would feel rudderless, not unlike how I feel when distance develops between us. It’s why I’m writing this now. Physical distance is one thing, but the emotional distance tears at me. I miss you. I missed you over the last few months, even when we were in the same room. Something broke, and I was at a loss. Fixing it seemed beyond my ability, so I ran._

_I didn’t think of it as running since it was always the plan, and it was work.  But I knew deep down those were excuses. I ran when I did because I had to, for me. For no one else but for myself. I guess it was selfish, but it was also my only recourse. Living my life for you, and for Sam, is not healthy, nor is it sustainable, so I thought this was the answer. And maybe in the long run it will be, but right now, I think I’ll regret it if I rush into too many decisions, especially ones which jeopardize our family and our friendship. With that in mind, I have asked Charlie to forestall the move (unless you object). You can leave the boxes in my room, but if you feel the need to unpack them, you have my permission. I will be back and whatever I choose to do moving forward will be for myself, but with my family, with you, always in the forefront of my mind._

_I hope you can forgive me for not comforting you the day I left. Seeing and hearing your pain made walking out that door and not looking back one of the hardest things I have ever done. I know we can’t go back to that moment, but if I could, I would hold you and remind you of how much you mean to me. Only then would I go. Know that, even though I am half-way around the world, part of me remains with you._

__Always,_ _

_Cas_

As soon as Dean finished reading, he started again. He read it over twice more before opening the second email, dated two days ago. This one was short and to the point.

 

_Dean,_

_Made it to Syria. I know you’ll worry, but I will make you the same promise I made Julian. As much as possible, I will keep myself safe and will not risk my life for the perfect photo._

_Cas_

 

He could here movement in the kitchen and feel eyes watching him. “You two can come back in now.” It only took a second for both Sam and Charlie to step into the room. “At least this time, it can’t be considered eavesdropping,” said Dean with a chuckle.

Sam huffed as he took the armchair, leaving the couch open for Charlie. “It’s not my fault the size of this house makes it easy to overhear things.”

“Especially when you purposely linger in the shadows.”

By this time, Charlie was seated on the couch, legs tucked up under her and facing Dean. “You two can continue your annoying brother bickering after you tell us what Cas said.”

Dean shifted his gaze to Charlie. “He said I could unpack his stuff if I wanted.” Silence greeted his statement.

“Um…you want to elaborate,” said Sam.

Shrugging Dean said, “He doesn’t like how he left and apologized for how it went down. I think maybe he feels he rushed into it and that’s why it was so hard. And that’s all I’m telling you, the rest was just for me.”

“So, if he feels bad about leaving, and he said to unpack, does that mean…”

“Spell it out, Sammy.”

Sam straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Did he tell you how he feels?”

“Wait, stop, no freaking way,” said Charlie as she leapt up and started pacing. “This can’t be happening. Not now.” The two men watched the whirling dervish, frozen in their places. “I tried. How many times did I try to get them both…oh my God…this is ridiculous…now when he’s gone…Now is when you decide to get your head out of your ass?” asked Charlie as she rounded on Dean. “And you,” she added as she turned to Sam, “How long have you known?”

Eyes wide, mouths agape, Sam and Dean stared at Charlie. She was often feisty, but this was a whole new side of their friend. “I…um…” stuttered Sam.

Dean tried to address the issue, but it went about as well as Sam’s effort. “Charlie, you have to…well…”

“Enough,” Charlie said as she flopped back down on the couch. “One of you tell me what happened because last I knew all this feelings stuff was buried deep below the surface or was a big damn secret.”

Dean looked down at his hands, knowing it should come from him, but unsure of where to start. When he raised his head, his eyes settled on Sam. His brother gave him an encouraging smile and a subtle nod. It didn’t seem like much, but it was enough to loosen Dean’s tongue. “I haven’t handled Cas’s departure well. You weren’t around much, so you didn’t see the full effect, but I sorta went off the rails. It freaked Carmen out enough for her to call Sam. Once he got here, I guess you could say the floodgates opened.”

“It wasn’t that fast,” interjected Sam. Turning to Charlie, he said, “I pushed him to look at the situation and his reaction to it. I’ve suggested it before, but the boxes upstairs seemed to be the trigger. He-”

Interrupting, Dean said, “You weren’t the only one who pointed it out. Charlie, I’m sorry I didn’t listen or try to understand what you meant all those times. I wish it didn’t take him packing up his room for me to admit how I feel.”

“Or having Carmen overhear you saying it,” smirked Sam.

“What?” asked Charlie.

“Carmen walked in when Dean said he loved Cas.”

Charlie gasped, but before she could say anything, Dean added, “And she was really great about it.” As he said those words, it hit him. _They both knew. All this time._ Shaking his head, he said, “Why didn’t you spell it out for me, for us?”

“Cas asked me not to,” answered Sam with a touch of sadness.

“Ditto,” said Charlie. “You didn’t exactly make it easy. There were times it seemed so obvious, but then a Carmen would come along and…”

Dean nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. The more they talked and the more he wrapped his brain around it, the more frustrated he became. Frustrated at himself. Frustrated with the situation. And if he was being honest with himself, frustrated with Cas. “He could have said something.” The scoff to his right drew his attention. “What?” he asked Sam.

“Dean, what exactly did you want him to say and when? I’m sure there were moments he thought about it, but come on, you were often dating someone.”

“And don’t forget all the times you called him brother,” said Charlie.

Now it was Dean’s turn to stand up and start pacing. “Well, shit. Obviously, that really bothered him since both you and Sam felt the need to point it out.” The look of confusion on Charlie’s face made Dean add, “Sam brought it up earlier today.”

Charlie stood up and approached Dean, stopping directly in front of him. “I think we’re going in circles at this point. It doesn’t really matter what happened before or why. You know the truth now so what are you going to do about it?” asked Charlie, emphatically.

“First, we’re going to unpack his shit.”

 

For the better part of two days, Dean, with a little help from Sam and Charlie, unpacked Cas’s boxes and reordered his room. The process did not end there because one glaring issue came to light during the process. Their home was just that _their home_ , as in Sam and Dean’s, with hints of Mary scattered throughout. There was very little of Cas outside of his bedroom. It dawned on Dean that Carmen had created more of presence in a few months than Cas had in years. If this was a new beginning, then the house was a good place to start.

It wasn’t long before Dean was reorganizing and redecorating the house. Things Cas had kept tucked away in his room migrated out into the common living areas. Sam smiled at him when he hung up one of Cas’s photos from their very first trip.

“I can’t believe we never put up one of his photos.”

“Or any of this other stuff,” Dean said gesturing around the room.

Sam eyes followed the path of Dean’s arm. “He went to all these places,” said Sam as he looked Cas's collection.

Dean finished straightening the picture frame and then stepped back. “I think we often took Cas for granted. Well, I did.”

“No, I did it, too.”

There was nothing to add to that point, so they both got back to work.

 

Before the end of the week, they had consulted with Gabe and Charlie, picked out paint colors, ordered some new furniture, and altered Sam’s room to create an office space for Cas. Sam’s room was the one bone of contention between them. Dean was adamant Sam’s room should remain as is, but Sam was equally adamant all he needed was a place to sleep when he came home to visit. In the end, Sam simply moved his few belongings around to make room and then ordered a desk for Cas.

As they were setting up the desk, Sam pushed a subject Dean had pointedly avoided all week. “You should at least tell him you and Carmen broke up.” Trying to ignore Sam’s statement, Dean focused on the parts laid in front of him. “You can pretend you didn’t hear me all you want, but we both know you did.”

“Let’s just build the damn desk, Sam.”

“No, I am leaving tomorrow, and I want to know what your plan is.”

“Don’t you trust me.”

“With most everything, yes. With this, no.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Sam sighed heavily as he grabbed Dean’s arm. “Dean, this is important.”

Defeated, Dean set down the tool in his hand and looked at his younger brother. The concern was evident in his soulful eyes. “I know. I’m just scared. I hate saying that, especially to you, but it is what it is.”

“I get it.”

“Really, because I don’t. This is Cas. I shouldn’t be afraid, not with him of all people. He knows more about me than…”

“Anyone,” Sam said quietly, finishing Dean’s sentence. “And before you try to argue, let me tell you why it’s true. For all we share and for how close we are, you keep parts of yourself hidden from me because you feel the need to always be the big brother. But with Cas, you let all those parts out. You’re freer with him. You let him take care of you. Something you would never willingly let me do.”

“That’s not your job, Sammy.”

“You’re proving my point. I don’t get to see you vulnerable unless I eavesdrop on you and Cas. I would never know what worries you or what scares you because you don’t want me to know. You always want to protect me, but with Cas you let him protect you. You let him see all of you. You always have.”

By this point, Dean’s heart was aching and he felt wrung out. It was how these types of conversations always made him feel and why he avoided having them with Sam. His brother had already seen him at his worst this week, so his first instinct was to brush off the serious nature of the conversation, maybe even crack a joke, but he couldn’t. Because Sam was right, this was important. He got into this situation by avoiding hard subjects and his own feelings and by ignoring Cas’s feelings. Now was not the time to fall back into that pattern. “You’re right. He is my foundation, my shelter. I have no idea how I could have gotten through these years without him. I dump all my crap on him, and he takes it with open arms. Giving me his full support and love. There really is no other word that describes it, but love. It’s amazing when you think about it. This world traveler and honored journalist put his life on hold to be part of our family. To love us and protect us. Who does that?”

“Who does that?” echoed Sam.

“Cas,” whispered Dean. “I miss him, Sammy.”

After a moment of quiet reverence, Sam asked, “Then why haven’t you emailed him back. You need to respond before he checks-in again.”

“You don’t’ think I know that. I’ve tried, more than once. I don’t know where to start.”

“How about, _Dear Cas, Carmen and I broke up and I unpacked your boxes_.”

“It’s not that simple.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Only because you won’t let it be. You said it yourself this is Cas we’re talking about. He won’t care how you tell him. All that will matter is what you tell him. He deserves to know, Dean.”

“Yeah, he does.” The tiredness in Dean’s voice must have been enough of a signal for Sam because he didn’t respond. Without further conversation, they finished putting the desk together.

 

Later that night, Dean sat in front of his open laptop, writing and deleting. Nothing seemed right. If he could see Cas’s eyes or feel his touch, it would be a different story. Cas always grounded him, one glance of those blue eyes was all it took. This seemed infinitely harder. An email seemed so impersonal for what he needed to tell Cas. For all he needed and wanted to share. Even just hearing Cas’s voice on the other end of a phone call, would be better, but this was what he was left with because Cas was in Syria. In the middle of a war. The emotional turmoil of the last weeks was bad enough even without the constant worry over Cas’s safety. Add that to the mix and anyone could see why Dean was a mess.

“And once again you got off track,” said Dean to the empty room.   _Fuck it_ , he thought as he started typing. He let his mind wander free, and his fingers fly over the keys. When he was done, he sat back and read what he wrote. And then he got to work, crafting an email out of the rambling mess he had before him.


	16. Cas - Inside Syria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, current events have found their way into this story.

His twelfth day in Syria dawned brightly even as it was clouded by the sounds and sights of war and no news from home. He knew his mind needed to be focused on the here and now, but it kept drifting to Dean, wondering why he never responded to his initial email. Sitting up, he grabbed for his bag and pulled his laptop out. It had been over a week since he had sent his official check-in email and generally Dean responded to those quickly, but as with his other correspondence Dean had not responded. Cas began to worry about what it meant. Before he could delve to far into those worries, there was a knock on the door. He knew it was Mahdi, waking him so they could begin their journey in the early hours. There last days had been filled with constant travel. The plans they’d had to travel to Idlib were dashed at every turn. Mahdi’s contact among the Syrian rebels in the city had gone radio silent. Mahdi feared the worst when the contact did not respond within three days. The network Mahdi worked with diligently tried to establish another contact in the area. As they waited for a response, Mahdi and Castiel made their own plans.  They were fraught with danger, but it was in both their minds a necessity.

Reaching the so-called safe zone was a trip Cas would not soon forget. Seeing Russian flags where American flags once flew filled Cas with a bone-deep sadness. Seeing the Turkish military occupying former Kurdish territory brought the entire tragedy front and center. Cas wondered about the Kurdish fighters he interviewed all those years ago. He wondered where they were now, where their families were. He recalled their pride when they spoke about their mission against ISIS and their collaboration with the US military. There was fear, but it was overshadowed by their sense of duty and justice. And now, years later, they were abandoned and left exposed. They were on the run or in hiding, constant danger their only companion. The safe zone was anything but safe. It was a misnomer, just as the entire operation was. The Kurds lost their lands and their homes, along with their safety. For Cas, it was as plain as the Turkish and Russian flags flying together on former US military posts. The Northern Syrian border was an occupied zone with all that entailed.

Cas was one of a few foreign journalists inside Syria. He knew his mentor was somewhere in the occupied zone because he had seen her reports. Even after decades in the Middle East, covering every major event and its aftermath, she never wavered. Whether she entered under her press pass or illegally, she would get the story. The ones no one else could. The stories of rape in a culture in which woman were shunned for being the victim of such an act. Somehow, someway she got women and girls to tell their story. When they met, she had taken Cas under her wing, just as Mary Winchester had done all those years ago. Sophie had seen this young American with a camera, wandering around the Syrian countryside somewhat aimlessly, and had given him direction. And now here they were back again, covering war in Syria, under an even more dangerous canopy.

Journalists have always placed themselves in danger covering such events, but that danger was now magnified. If a journalist could be killed and mutilated inside the Saudi consulate in Turkey, then anything was possible. It had ushered in a new era. One of new norms held together by obfuscation, blatant disregard of international law, and blind acceptance. As Cas traveled through hostile territory or when he hunkered down in a Syrian city, a current of trepidation was ever present. A press pass didn’t provide even the modicum of safety it once did. It was part of Mahdi’s reasoning for entering illegally and why Cas dressed as a local, his now tan skin aiding the disguise. A heaviness settled over Cas’s body with these thoughts, making his movements sluggish. Another set of knocks forced his mind back to the present.

“I’ll be right out,” he finally said as he planted his feet firmly on the floor.

As he dressed, he looked around the now familiar room. They were back at Karam’s home, and he was once again ensconced in a small brightly colored bedroom. A room which had once belonged to Karam’s daughter, lost in the earliest days of the civil war and the shelling of Aleppo. The memory of her permeated every fiber of the room. From the pink walls to the aqua green bedding. When he was first shown to the room almost two weeks ago, Cas had wanted to balk at staying in her most intimate space, but he knew the importance of the gesture and the significance of hospitality within Karam’s culture. Showing guests respect and comfort, sharing your table with them and your space, was expected and it was deemed honorable. With that in mind, Cas had graciously accepted the room and continued to do so now. This was why he was here in many ways. To show what the world did not know about these, often misunderstood, corners of the world.

Terrorism and destruction are the extremes of this world not the heart of it, and Cas was determined, through his photographs and the words of the those he captured in images, to show the true nature of the people. Not the leaders, not the warmongers, not the politicians, not the warlords, not the terrorists, not the money and oil obsessed capitalists, but the people. The women and children. The old and infirm. The downtrodden and broken. The brave and the bold. Those whose homes were destroyed and lands confiscated. Those living in tents or sleeping in the streets. The men and women who continue the fight against tyranny in the wake of extreme loss and poverty. Those who in the middle of it all will still open their home to stranger and break bread with them. He smiled at the last notion, knowing he would be doing just that in a few short minutes. The food would be delicious and the conversation lively, and Cas was looking forward to it, even as his mind filtered through the past twelve days and the images of those he met in this country six years ago. Even as he made his way to breakfast, he hoped for their safety and the safety of those now facing similar struggles.

The meal this time was not the long meandering affair of previous ones. There was a schedule to keep because the window to meet Mahdi’s latest contact was short. Cas gathered his items quickly, taking one last peek at his email. Still no response. The worry returned, compounded by the fact he didn't know if contact would be possible once they reached Idlib. He must not have hidden his emotions well because Mahdi gave him an appraising look. Cas simply shook his head and got in the car. They drove out of the city in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Cas knew Mahdi’s separation from his family weighed on him. He could see the suffering in his eyes at times. He figured his showed the same.

Arrival in Idlib went smoother than anticipated. The contact, Farid, met them at the province’s border without any delays or confrontations. A week ago, even a few days ago, the situation would have been much different. With President Assad’s visit to the area and subsequent public address, the border had been in relative lockdown. It was one of several visits he had made to the area in the last six months. The ongoing posturing over territory between Erdogan, the Turkish President, and Assad went through periods of volatility and violence followed by a tense calm. Little progress had been made. Caught in the middle were the over three million people crammed into a single province which held half that amount only seven years ago. The numbers continued to swell as more Syrian refugees were forced by Turkish troops to move out of the ever-expanding safe zone.

As they made their way to the city of Idlib, evidence of this plight was seen along the roadway and in every village. Large swaths of people weighted down by their belongings or making space for themselves on any patch of open ground filled his camera. Photo after photo of deplorable conditions, desperation, and resolve. Arriving in Idlib, they found much the same. Cas spent the remainder of the day walking the streets, familiarizing himself with the area and its inhabitants. Mahdi and Farid introduced him to several rebel leaders while Farid’s wife, Rima, introduced him to several prominent women, one of whom participated in the first wave of rebellion against Assad’s regime. It was while he was speaking with them that he saw her across the courtyard. Sophie’s eyes were trained on him as she approached quickly. His arms were around her before he could register the joy of finding her safe.

“Castiel, I knew somehow we’d find each other.”

“You have more faith than I, then,” he said with a chuckle.

As she released him, she said, “It was dangerous for you to release those photos while you were still in the border zone.”

“I learned from the best.”

She shook her head. “It was one lesson I hoped you would forego, but I should have known better.” Gripping his elbow, she escorted him to a stone bench in the center of the courtyard. It was only then that he realized Rima and her friend had stepped away, giving them privacy. “When did you arrive?” Sophie asked, redirecting his focus.

“Twelve days ago.”

“No trouble?’

“So far we’ve been lucky. Only logistical issues,” Cas answered. “And you?”

“You know me. It’s not a trip to the Middle East unless I’m under fire at some point.” Cas watched her expression grow serious as she launched into the story. It was a familiar story, and one he had lived himself more than once. When she finished, she quickly changed the subject. “How are things at home? Last I heard from you, Sam had gotten his acceptance letter to Stanford.”

“He started this fall on a full ride. I was so proud of him, but you should have seen Dean. As much as it hurt him to say goodbye to Sam, he was…” Cas smiled, lost for a second in the memory and how to explain Dean’s reaction.

“Like a proud father,” Sophie said, filling in the gap.

Cas nodded, “That about sums it up.”

“And how is Dean?” she asked, tentatively.

“Dean is…Well, he finished school and is working for Bobby full-time until he can start applying for teaching positions.”

Sophie stared at him intently, her no bullshit meter on high. “We may only contact each other once or twice a year, but you know that is not what I was referring to.”

“I know.”

“You tend to spill the truth when you drink. And drunk texting has the same result.”

After looking down at his hands and taking a deep breath, he said, “Leaving was awful. He begged me to explain and to stay.” He lifted his head until his gaze met hers. “But I just couldn’t see how to do that without breaking myself in the process.”

“We’ve all been there. This job is brutal on relationships. Mine isn’t the only marriage to fall apart because of it.”

“It isn’t just about the job. There is so much left unsaid between us. At least on my part anyway.”

Sophie reached out and took his hand. “You never told him.”

It was more a statement than a question, but he answered it anyway. “I didn’t.” He thought she would ask why, as Sam and others had done, but he was wrong. She simply held his hand and waited. “In some ways, I think it was the right decision, and yet I think I will regret it in the long run.”

Silence hung between them for several seconds before Sophie said, “I regret a great many things in my life, Castiel. Living this life, doing this job creates ample opportunity for it. But one thing I do not regret is the honesty with which I have chosen to live since the break-up of my marriage. Honesty to myself, first and foremost. If I had been honest with myself back then, I would never have married, saving myself and my ex-husband vast amounts of pain. If you are already plagued by thoughts of regret, I think you have your answer. I have never known you not to be an honest and honorable man.”

Castiel flushed with her praise, uncomfortable as ever to take a compliment, but even with that he understood her point. “I wish it was as simple as being honest with Dean. And if it was just about the two of us, I would tell him, but it goes beyond us. There are others involved. Dean has someone in his life, and there is always Sam to consider.”

As Sophie went to respond, they heard the sounds of an explosion. Within seconds, Mahdi and Farid were in the courtyard, ushering everyone inside, and all thoughts of the world at home were lost in the realities of the war surrounding them. Cas and Sophie immediately set to work, preparing their equipment and readying themselves to go out and document the latest attack.

Speculation ran rampant amongst those assembled, placing blame on various terrorist elements, Assad’s forces, or the start of another fearsome Russian bombing campaign. Several people mentioned Turkey. Along the province’s border with Turkey heavy fighting by numerous factions, including the Turkish military, had occurred for months on end, and it had some people wondering if they were pushing further into Syria. The problem was as more refugees funneled into the province, so did extremist elements - members of al-Qaida and its numerous splinter groups and of course members of ISIS and its affiliates. The movement of terrorists into the region did not slow after the leader of ISIS, al-Baghdadi, was killed in a US raid. On the contrary, more militants pushed into the fractured and destabilized region. Forever recruiting and endangering the lives of the province’s inhabitants. It was why it was so difficult to get accurate reporting from this part of Syria. Everyone had their own version of the truth and their own propaganda machine. It was also why it was so dangerous for any journalist, foreign or local, to report on the situation.

As Cas listened to several smaller explosions off in the distance, he steeled his resolve. This was why he was here – to tell the truth, the unvarnished, untainted, raw and heartbreaking truth. He shared a look with Sophie as they both rose from their chairs. It was one of wariness but also determination. With a slight nod, Cas stepped toward the door, Sophie on his heels. “Into the fray,” he heard her whisper at his back.

“Stay safe,” he responded in a hushed tone. With that, they were out the door and rushing down the street toward the sounds of the firefight. There was no greater rush Cas had experienced in his life. A rush that always brought fear and guilt along for the ride. He pushed all those feelings aside as he let the mask slide over himself. Schooling his expressions and his feelings into ones of professionalism and purpose. He saw the same mask slip over his friend’s features as they drew closer to the action. As they rounded a corner and saw the flashes of gunfire, his mind flashed to Dean and the promise he made, echoed in the words he said to Sophie. And it was in that moment, as he renewed the promise, that he decided he would tell Dean how he felt. Confess his love and deal with any fall-out. His mask must have slipped because Sophie frowned at him and then halted their movements.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking of home.”

“Not the time,” she scolded.

Cas nodded before taking off again, mask falling back into place.

It was mass chaos when they arrived on the scene. The street was littered with rubble and bodies. Screams and gunfire filled the air as did smoke and a fine mist of particles. The camera around his neck was briefly forgotten as Cas went to aid a young man trapped under debris. Sophie was at his side, assisting, even as she said, “Cas, your camera.” He shook his head. “Castiel, do your job!” she demanded as they pulled the boy free. And so, he did, in between offering assistance and ducking for cover. Hours passed in such a fashion and slowly but surely the story developed. Several terrorists, members of ISIS, had holed up in a home, shielding themselves with civilians. It was a common occurrence and one which often resulted in the deaths of those civilians. Armed and wearing suicide vests, they hid in the home for two days before they were discovered by a rival faction. The first explosion ripped through the back of the home, and the subsequent explosions decimated the rest of it. Somehow in the chaos, two of the terrorists had escaped the home, leading to a pursuit and a firefight. As Cas and Sophie canvassed the area, they followed the path of destruction until they came upon a crowd forming a semi-circle around several armed militants. Kneeling in front of them were two men, defiance on their faces as their captors yelled at them. It was over quickly with a flash of metal and the sound of dropping bodies.

Having never personally witnessed a beheading before, Cas’s body shuddered, but there was no shock on the faces of those surrounding him. These were people who suffered war and violence on a daily basis. There was no end to what horrific and barbaric acts they had witnessed. Within moments, the crowd filtered away, back to their lives. Moving with the crowd, Cas and Sophie shifted into the shadow of a building. It was from there Cas continued photographing the scene. When the militants began scanning the area, Cas lowered his camera and gestured for Sophie to move. They backed down the small alley and faded into a crowd on the next street.

Hours later as he flipped through the photos, he had this feeling, this need to shove it all away and forget. It was a rarity for him and in many ways, it shocked him. Forcing himself to continue, he picked several photos to send out immediately. With Farid’s assistance, they had found internet access. It was spotty at best, but it would suffice, even if he had to wait hours for a proper connection.  Two hours later, he sent the images. With the job done, he hoped some of the tension would leave his body, but it did not. Needing a distraction, he checked through his long list of emails. When his eyes zoned in on Dean’s name, he breathed a sigh of relief, before a wave of anxiety swept over him. He opened the email even as his hand shook.

 

_Cas,_

_I sat down to write you back and nothing seemed right. There are so many things I want to say to you. But more than anything I miss you. I need you to know that. No matter how we left things, you are my family. That will never change. No matter how many times you walk out the door for work or for anything, really, you will remain my best friend. There is no one in this world I can share myself with more than you. So, here goes._

_When you packed up your room, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t understand what had happened for you to leave like that. I couldn’t figure out what I had done. I know you tried to talk to me and that I didn’t always listen, but I also don’t think you told me the whole story. Scratch that. I know you didn’t tell me everything. Just as I didn’t tell you. I think sometimes we rely to much on our longstanding connection to spell it out, hoping the other will simply understand. But words, Cas, we need to use them. I need to use them. The worst part is I wasn’t even telling myself the whole story, and now I have to sit here and wait for you to come home. Wait and worry and wonder if I will get the chance._

_Sam keeps pushing me to tell you. It’s part of why I am writing even this much, but some things must be said in person, so I will reserve those until you return. But what I can say is I did not handle your departure well. I lost it actually. Whiskey became my only companion until Sam came. I am not blaming you so don’t even think that for a second. I made my choices or in some cases I let them happen around me without paying attention. Without seeing how it could affect others, YOU. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize the pain I was causing. Things with Carmen should have never escalated that far without consulting you. My home is your home. In my defense, I was so complacent about the whole thing I didn’t realize she had practically moved in until Sam pointed it out. It was never my intention, but that doesn’t excuse my actions or lack there of. And as for the last part of your email, of course I want you to stay. Your stuff is unpacked, and I am making some changes around here (for one, Carmen’s things are gone). I can’t wait for you to see what we’ve done to the place. And by we, I mean me, Sam, and Charlie, and a little help from Gabe, of all people._

_I guess the most important part of all of this is in my mind there was never any question that the house was just as much your home as mine. And I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to make you feel the same. Without you here, well, let’s just say it doesn’t quite feel like home. The rest of what I have to say I will hold within myself until you walk through the door, returning home, safe and sound._

_Always,_

_Dean_

Cas felt the stinging of tears in his eyes and dampness on his face. He ran his hand down his face wiping the tears away. After the emotional turmoil of the day, he had already been on the edge, and he wasn’t surprised Dean’s words tipped him over it. Dean often affected him deeply enough to shed tears. It was one of the myriads of reasons he knew he loved the man. As he reflected on the letter, there was a lot to unpack. _Funny_ , he thought, _I packed, they unpacked, and now_ … Several thoughts flashed across his mind to complete that sentence, but none adequately addressed his feelings. Because in the end there were still so many questions to be answered, and it seemed those would have to wait until he returned home. Without conscious thought, he let the first glimmer of hope emerge, and for once he did not squash it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Janine di Giovanni, an author and foreign correspondent who has spent over twenty years in the Middle East, is the inspiration for Sophie. I read some of her work on Syria as research for this story.


	17. Clutched in Dean's Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to all the new subscribers. And thanks for the kudos and comments. They are always greatly appreciated.

Sitting on the couch in the quiet of the living room, the only sound the clinking of dishes in the kitchen, Dean clutched the papers in his hands. After several seconds, he caught himself and loosened his grip, smoothing out the pages. The items in his hands signified the bulk of the communication he’d had with Cas in the two months he had been gone. On a handful of occasions, they were able to speak briefly on the phone. With the time difference and the chaotic nature of Cas’s work and current environment, they typically missed their window of opportunity. Each time it happened Dean’s heart sank and his mood went right with it. It was the reason for the person in the kitchen and all the others who had spent time with Dean over the last months. He looked down at the first letter in the stack, the one he reread in his darkest moments. The request was there, near the end, “Don’t be alone. Don’t let whiskey be your only friend.” And somehow, some way, he found it within himself to ask for help. He knew without those words from his best friend, he never would have reached out.

The clatter of pans drew his eyes to the kitchen where Charlie was emptying the dish strainer. She was his most frequent visitor, often spending the night. Having her in the house was the distraction he needed, but it was also reassurance. Her sunny personality and optimism hardly ever wavered, even in the face of Dean’s recalcitrant melancholy. She held the power to make him smile, a rarity these days. The only other time his smile came unbidden was when he received Cas’s emails, even short check-in ones. Printing off the emails so he could hold them in his hands made them tangible in a way they could never be on a computer screen. He stared down at his hands and began to read Cas’s words for the…who knows how many times it had been at this point, definitely more than he cared to tabulate.

 

_Dear Dean,_

_There are so many words running through my mind. So many ways I want to answer your email. I wish this was easier. I wish I could see your expression, hear your voice. There are these moments where your eyes tell more of the story than you express in words. I relish those moments more than you could ever understand. They remind me how to be human in this fractured world. I lose sight of it at times, consumed by the inhumanity I see through my lens. I think sometimes I forget how to simply be present. When I am home with you and Sam, I feel more present than I ever have. Leaving home at such a young age, and really even before that, I was always looking beyond. Trying to find the next challenge and a new path in life. Moving and changing constantly. Mary changed some of my wandering ways, gave me direction, but that part of me still beats a steady rhythm. It competes with the part that wants a home. I never felt the comfort of home and love growing up. Everything in my life was sterile and bland. There was no joy until I challenged the entirety of my upbringing. Later, I found joy in my work and in the friendships I have been lucky enough to find. You are part of that joy, a very large part. With you and Sam in my life, I feel more connected and comforted._

_Home became the two of you, but times change. Life moves forward, and I knew it going into the situation. I knew Sam would go to college, and you would finish school and start a career in a few short years. I also knew there would be a time when you would find someone to share your life with, as would Sam. So, you see, I always knew the writing was on the wall, and yet I was blindsided when it happened. I don’t know why or how, but it is the truth. Sam leaving hit harder than I ever imagined, and then when I looked around the house, I saw the signs of the next big change. You had found someone, and I would no longer fit in the home we shared. It was then I knew I had to go, giving you the space you needed for the next step in your life._

_Reading your email, I see I was mistaken in my assumptions, although I think you understand why I was given that impression. And I agree with you, too few words have been spoken between us. I often think about you and all the times I wish I had shared more of myself with you. I held back because I was there to support you, not dump my own feelings on you. Now, I see what a disastrous mistake that was. How uneven our relationship became because of it. You are not the only one Sam pushed. Strange how it was the youngest among us who knew what was right all along._

_As much as reading your words gave me solace, knowing I have a home to come back to, it also brought great sadness. I hate to think of you drowning yourself in alcohol. My heart aches when I picture it. Please try to find another way. Don’t be alone. Don’t let whiskey be your only friend. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me. I miss you, Dean. I miss your smile and your laughter. I miss those moments where we look at each other and no words need to be spoken. Being here, everything is chaos and confusion. Clarity is rare, and I find myself lost in more ways than one. Despite it all, one thing stands out with abundant clarity. I need to be here, for these people deserve a voice. This world needs to know the truth of war and the devastating impact of even the simplest decision. But for me to do my job properly and not get lost in my own head, I need to know you are living, not hiding yourself away. Promise me you will find joy everyday because it will bring me joy, even on my darkest days here._

_And as you said so eloquently, I will hold the rest of what I have to say within myself until the day I am standing before you._

_Always,_

_Cas_

Dean wiped the tears from his eyes as his lips quirked up into a smile. Hope was powerful, and he clung to it as if it was his lifeline. It was even more powerful than the promise he made to Cas to not wallow in the bottom of a bottle. Some days it was the only thing he could find to prevent him from picking up a bottle and crawling into bed.

Obsessively watching the news became a favorite pastime until his friends forcibly grabbed the remote from his white-knuckled hand, shutting off the TV with a determined huff and frown. Syria, after having fallen off the radar in previous years, was back on almost every nightly newscast. With the violence escalating, the reemergence of ISIS, and the press of outside forces, the humanitarian crisis had finally drawn the attention it had deserved all along. With every heartbreaking and terrifying news story, Dean’s fear intensified and his dreams grew dark and foreboding. It was after several nights of those dreams, and his subsequent use of the bottle to drown them out, that the others started spending the night. Sometimes they got to him in time to wake him from the nightmares, and other times they simply sat with as he tried to calm his nerves after bolting upright in bed calling out Cas’s name.

Those were the moments in which he could not in anyway hide how he felt about Cas. Charlie had known, but it had come as a surprise to Bobby, Victor, and even Billie. Dean was shocked Billie did not know. He had assumed Carmen would have told her. Carmen was almost angrier about that assumption than she was about their break-up. Her words reverberated in his mind _. I would never betray a confidence like that. Your feelings are your business, and only you should get to share them when and if you want._ He chuckled, remembering her indignant look. The second the laughter faded worry settled back over him. He stared at the open laptop, willing it to trill with the sound of an incoming video chat.

Ten days since he last heard from Cas, three days after his scheduled check-in. The only word a cryptic message from Sophie. Dean had never met the woman in person, only seeing her briefly on one of her video chats with Cas. Part of him felt anger toward her. The part that blamed her for mentoring Cas, influencing him to pursue journalism. It was unfair, and not even remotely accurate, but it didn’t keep Dean from feeling it. If he really allowed himself to think about Cas’s path in life, his mother was as much, or more, to blame for Cas’s choice as Sophie. The truth would hit him when he delved into this train of thought. The reality that no one made Cas’s decisions. The man had pursued his own path from the time he was a teenager. Seeing the world the way Cas did, there was little chance he would ever live a sedate life. And Dean loved him for who he was, changing him was not an option. Not only because Cas would fight it tooth and nail, but also because it would break bits and pieces off him until he would be unrecognizable. Dean knew if he was going to find a way to share his feelings, and hopefully his life with Cas, he would have to accept every part of what made him the person he loved.

He jumped when a ringing sound broke the silence. Quickly accepting the call, he held his breath until the connection was complete, and he saw a set of blue eyes staring back at him. “Oh God, Cas,” he said, exhaling sharply.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hello? Really, that’s it. We had no idea what was happening. The last email said you were stuck somewhere in North Western Syria and then nothing. For ten fucking days, and all you have to say is, “Hello, Dean.”

Cas smiled, but it was small and tempered by the exhaustion in his eyes. “Sophie said she contacted you.”

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She did, but that didn’t really help. What’s with you journalists and your cryptic shit? Can’t you ever just spell things out for the rest of us?”

“I’m sorry if she was a bit vague. When she sent the email, she hadn’t seen me yet and didn’t want to give you a false impression of my situation.”

At those words, Dean’s shoulders slumped and whatever anger he was holding onto faded away, replaced by deep-seated worry. “Tell me.”

Skipping right over Dean’s statement, Cas asked, “Is there anyone there with you?”

“Yeah, Charlie’s here.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why he asked that question. Dean’s worry only heightened. “Charlie, come in here,” Dean yelled. Only seconds passed before she flopped down onto the couch next to Dean.

“Hello, Charlie.”

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the screen. “Cas, we weren’t even sure you were going to be the one who called after Sophie’s message.”

“I wasn’t sure either, but here I am. And as you can see, I am fine.” He waved his arm, gesturing at himself. The sound of movement behind Cas was quickly followed by a female voice, “Quit bullshitting them.” Cas turned his head and said, “I am not bullshitting them. I am perfectly fine.”

“If you call a concussion and a broken wrist fine.”

“Sophie -” Cas started, but Dean cut him off.

“You’re hurt?” he said, voice cracking with emotion.

“Barely,” Cas practically whispered. Dean and Charlie stayed quiet as they stared at Cas. He was not making eye contact and was shifting nervously. Several moments passed before he lifted his gaze. “I didn’t want to worry you.” _Too late for that_ , thought Dean as Cas continued. “We were in an area which had seen little fighting over the last months. Taking photos and interviewing a whole slew of kids. You should have seen them. They were so full of life, laughing and teasing, and then it was gone. Shattered in the blink of an eye. No one has a reason for it, and no one is laying claim to it. Bomb after bomb hit the small village. There is nothing strategic about the place and no suspected terrorists in the area. I don’t know how or even when I got hurt, and my injuries are minor. Some of those around me were not so lucky. Tears began to fall from Cas’s eyes. Mahdi…” Cas said, voice failing him. He swallowed several times before he regained his composure enough to say, “He did not make it.”

Dean and Charlie were holding hands by this point, both squeezing tightly at those words.   Neither interrupted with platitudes, instinctively knowing it was not the time. Soon enough, Cas began again.

“Five of the children I photographed that day died from the first bomb. I really have no idea how…” Cas’s eyes closed and his body visibly tensed. “Someone grabbed me and pulled me away. I don’t think I have ever frozen like that before. To this day, I have no idea who did it. They disappeared in the chaos. The next thing I knew I was being treated by a nurse in a make-shift hospital. My wrist was set, but they didn’t have the materials for a cast, so they splinted it. When my concussion cleared enough for me to move, I was loaded into a medical transport vehicle. The convoy of aide vehicles took us all the way to Homs. From there, we were divided up and taken to a hospital in Beirut. Hence the cast,” Cas said as he lifted his left arm.

Dean wanted to ask a bunch of different questions, but in the end only one mattered. “When is your flight home?” Cas’s head snapped back and his eyes went wide. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re injured. You’re coming home.”

“Dean, this is a minor injury. I will not let it stop me from finishing what I started, what I’ve been planning for years. This is more important to me now than it was even a few weeks ago.”

Dropping his eyes to the hand still clasped with Charlie’s, Dean responded, “I’m not asking you to stop forever, just until you’ve recovered. You can’t go running around in the middle of a war zone with the use of only one hand.”

“Told you,” Sophie said, from off-screen.

Voice stern, Cas asked, “When have you ever let a setback stop you from getting a story?”

“This is different,” she answered.

“Oh, really. Enlighten us,” snapped Cas. Dean waited, hoping Sophie had a profound answer, but there was only dead silence. “Exactly,” said Cas as he turned back to the screen. “There is no legitimate reason for me to give up and come home. I have to finish this.”

Sighing, Dean looked up, glaring at the ceiling as he tried to rein in his frustration. He had just had this very talk with himself. Accepting Cas’s work and its dangers. Loving him as is, even if it meant letting him go at times. “I know,” he said, as he lowered his head and gazed into Cas’s eyes. “Just promise me you will come home when you’re done.”

Pain flashed across Cas’s face. “Dean, you know I can’t make that promise.”

“Dammit, Cas. I need you to, okay. Just give me this, please.”

“I will try my best. I can’t give you more than that.”

Charlie, who had remained stoically silent until then, said, “Cas, what are you going to do now? With Mahdi…I mean…”

Holding up his hand, Cas broke into Charlie’s rambling. “I am not going back into Syria. Later today, Sophie and I are going to see Mahdi’s family. I will be with them as long as they need. After that, I am heading to Africa.”

Sophie sat down on the couch next to Cas, pushing in close to be seen in the small window. “I imagine this news won’t be what you want, but believe me, it’s better than the alternative. This stubborn ass was planning to go back to Syria until I talked him out of it.”

“Where precisely are you going in Africa? And how is it better than Syria?” asked Dean as he stared gravely at Cas.

Sighing, Cas said, “South Sudan. I will be working with a former child soldier. We have been in communication for years. In fact, he was in the states until a little over a year ago.”

There was a question in Cas’s eyes, so Dean said, “What?”

“I’m sure I mentioned Omari to you.”

Charlie bumped her shoulder into Dean’s. He looked over to see her rolling her eyes. “Cas, you introduced us to Omari at one of your shows.” Cas’s face flushed as Sophie chuckled next to him. “Why is he back in Sudan?” asked Charlie.

Cas’s back straightened, and his eyes lit up. “He is working with the Dallaire Initiative. A Canadian organization battling the recruitment and use of child soldiers. Omari got out through a negotiated release, but at the same time more children were recruited. It’s a never-ending cycle which the Dallaire program is trying to break with a prevention-oriented approach. It’s why he joined the organization. And why I am going to Sudan now.”

“So, is that what you’re going to be doing?” asked Dean.

“What do you mean?” asked Cas, head tipped to the side. Running his hand down his face, Dean tried to settle the nerves still plaguing him. When he opened his eyes, he found Cas’s blue eyes trained on him. It was one of those moments Cas had talked about in his letter. There was no need for Dean to answer, so he waited for Cas. “Civil war still rages in Sudan, Dean.”

“Okay,” Dean said, hesitantly.

“Dean, I will do my best to stay safe. And I promise to wait until my wrist is healed to do the really dangerous stuff.” Cas smiled as he finished.

“Smiling doesn’t make that sound better, ya know.”

“I know, Dean.”

Movement to his left caught Dean’s attention. Charlie was shifting around on the couch. “Um…I think we should let you two talk in private.” Sophie nodded in response. “Cas, I’m so glad you’re all right. Stay that way.” Without another word, Charlie stood up and left the room. Sophie made a perfunctory goodbye and followed suit.

“Well, that was a bit odd,” mumbled Cas.

Dean didn’t agree, but he kept that to himself. If Cas didn’t understand their staring was the cause, he wasn’t going to point it out. Instead he said, “Are you really okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas said softly. “And, how are you?”

“I was doing better until these last few days. I’ve been doing what you asked, putting the bottle down and letting people help. Gotta say it isn’t always easy, but I promised you so…” Dean shrugged, feeling the blush rise up the back of his neck and settle in his cheeks.

Cas inhaled sharply, eyes focused intently on Dean’s face. “It’s so good to see you,” he whispered.

“You, too, Cas.”

The heavy moment slid away when Cas asked about Sam. Their conversation meandered from there as Dean talked about Sam, work, and their friends. Time passed much to quickly, and before he was ready, it was time to say goodbye. “I hate this. Shit, I don’t mean that the way it sounds.”

“How do you mean it?” asked Cas.

“I just hate seeing you go, even like this. But I understand why you go, I really do. And I’m proud of you.” Several tears slid down Dean’s cheeks. The image was mirrored on Cas’s face. “Fuck, why am I always crying around you?”

“It’s not like I’m much better,” said Cas, swiping at his damp cheeks.

Dean froze for a second, envisioning Cas on his knees under the large maple tree. “Cas, I…um…years ago I saw…” Dean’s voice faded out when he saw Cas shake his head.

“Not now. Hold it within until I come home.”

“Right, here,” whispered Dean as he held his hand to his chest.

Cas copied the movement, neither dropping their hands even as they broke the connection and their screens went black. Dean sat still, mind focused on Cas’s image. Searing it into his mind, wanting it to sustain him through the long night ahead. Leaning back, he rested his head on the top of the couch. Dean stared at the ceiling, counting his breaths, picturing Cas doing the same. He closed his eyes and imagined himself sitting next to Cas, reaching for his hand. Lacing their fingers together when Cas offered his in return. One simple vision should not create the whirlwind of emotions inside of him. But then, when it came to Cas, nothing should surprise Dean anymore. Not the fear, not the pain, not the sadness, not the joy, not the beauty, not the comfort, and certainly not the love. A measure of calm swept over Dean. If there had been any doubts over the last months, they were swept away by the love coursing through his body. “I love you, Cas,” he whispered to the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Romeo Dallaire Child Soldier Initiative is currently working around the world to prevent the recruitment of child soldiers. And not just the boys carrying the guns, but the girls who are used in a variety of ways, including as sex slaves. Their approach is multi-faceted and well-researched. It is enlightening to watch and listen to their founder Romeo Dallaire discuss the issue. You can find him on YouTube.


	18. Sam Confronts Some Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the thought-provoking and supportive comments. Have a little of Sam's POV.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

Sam stared at his brother’s back, bent over an open suitcase. His eyes traveled to the nightstand where Dean’s passport sat on top of a stack of papers. “So, you’re going.”

“Yeah. And I don’t need you to be all smug about it.” Dean glared over his shoulder and added, “I don’t want to wait anymore. Every time I write an email or talk to him it gets harder not to blurt out how I feel.”

Walking over, Sam dropped down on the end of the bed, staring at Dean for several heartbeats. “And flying?” Tension radiated off Dean’s body, but his face remained impassive. “Dean?”

“I’ll be fine,” Dean answered through clenched teeth.

Sam smiled up at Dean. “I could go with you.” Dean halted his packing, focusing his attention on his younger brother. “If it would help,” Sam said quietly.

Sighing, Dean sat down next to Sam. “I…uh…this is your summer break, and you’ve only been home for a couple weeks.”

Bumping his shoulder into Dean’s, Sam chuckled. “Talk about contradicting yourself. First, you refuse to go because I just got home. Now you don’t want me to come with you for the very same reason. Don’t get me wrong, I am ecstatic you decided to take my advice, but -”

Interrupting, Dean said, “I get it, Sam. I only made the decision an hour ago, so give me a break.”

Sam stared at Dean before looking at the partially filled suitcase, wondering how he got a flight so fast. “When is your flight?” Sam asked.

“Thursday morning.” Sam tried to stifle his laugh, but Dean caught it anyway. Frustration evident in his voice, Dean asked, “What?”

“Um…that’s four days from now.”

“So?” said Dean. No longer able to sustain his composure, Sam barked out a laugh. Frowning, Dean snapped, “Shut up, it’s not that funny. You know I hate flying, and I’m nervous as fuck about everything else already without you giving me shit.” When he finished speaking, Dean buried his face in his hands, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

Whatever humor Sam had seen in the situation vanished in the face of Dean’s demeanor and the significance of his words. This was a huge step for his brother, and he knew that better than almost anyone. “I’m sorry,” Sam said sheepishly. Dean shrugged in response, and Sam decided to move the conversation along. “What did Cas say when you told him?”

“I didn’t,” Dean said with a wide grin. “I want to surprise him. When I told Charlie, she screeched and jumped up and down and then booked everything in under ten minutes.” Reaching up, Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Sam watched Dean shift around and try to regain some level of comfort, thinking all the while there was no reason for his brother to be nervous. Cas would be thrilled to see him. It was why Sam had been pushing Dean so hard. From the second he learned of the exhibition, he knew Dean needed to attend. He needed to be there to support Cas. Giving speeches was one of Cas’s least favorite aspects of his career. It happened more often than Cas had ever expected when he picked up his camera. Sam smiled as he pictured his friend. “He hates being the center of attention. He’s going to be so glad you are there.”

“I already helped him with his speech,” said Dean. Smiling, he added, “It’s a much bigger deal than he made it sound.”

“How so?”

Dean shook his head. “Well, Mr. Modest failed to mention that the museum is only having this grand reopening because of a generous donation from an anonymous donor who stipulated the first special exhibit needed to be from a current photographer, voted on by other photographers and the curators of the numerous museums in Florence.”

There was a kind of symmetry to this turn of events. The Alinari National Museum of Photography in Florence, Italy had been closed and under renovation with no reopening date scheduled. Many assumed it would never reopen, including Cas. He had spoken to Sam and Dean about it on several occasions, hoping he could find a way to facilitate its reopening. And now his work was selected as the first special exhibit, which was a condition for its reopening. “That’s kismet,” Sam said with a hint of awe.

“Don’t let Cas hear you say that,” scoffed Dean.

“I know better than that.”

They both laughed and bumped their shoulders into each other. Sam eased off the laughter and reiterated his earlier statement. “I could go with you. I’d like to see Cas and his exhibit, and I know how hard flying is for you.”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” muttered Dean, shoulders slumping for a moment before he jumped up from the bed and started packing again.

“Nope, you don’t get to make a statement like that and think I am going to ignore it.”

“Dammit, Sam. Can’t you ever let anything go.” Sam stared at Dean, waiting for his brother to crack. It didn’t take long. “Fine, this isn’t easy, and it isn’t going to be pretty, just warning you.” Sam nodded, gesturing for Dean to continue. “My fear of flying started a long time ago. I know you think it’s all wrapped up…okay so yes, Mom getting sick right after we flew to Florida and then finding out it was cancer the day before we were set to fly home didn’t help. But you’re too young to remember the other time we flew together. Mom and Dad had been planning a trip to California. Hollywood and Disneyland and all that. Mom told us about it, and then just like that it was canceled. I heard a bunch of yelling and slamming doors. Dad took off for a couple nights. After he got back, they didn’t really talk much. Mom started talking to you and me about going on vacation. And then one day, she loaded us in the car, and we went to the airport. You were about three, I think. Dad was nowhere around, so it was just the three of us.” Dean paused and ran his hand down his face, failing to wipe away the mask of pain.

Turning to face Sam, he sighed. “She took us to Chicago for a long weekend. We went to museums and Great America. It’s where you got your Bugs Bunny. It was amazing right up until the flight home. There was terrible turbulence. You wouldn’t stop crying. Mom was frantic, and I was terrified. We all managed to calm down before we landed, but it was like a bad omen or some shit. Because when we got home, Dad was gone. I mean gone, gone. Packed his shit and left. Without a fucking word. Mom tried to act like everything was fine, but she cried every night. It was fucking awful.”

Sam’s heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and his mind was clouded with confusion. “I don’t understand,” he managed to choke out.

“I know you don’t. Mom never really talked about Dad after he left, so when you asked about him, I tried…but it was easier to make shit up.”

Standing up, Sam started pacing, his heartrate still too fast. “I mean once I got older, I knew all the superhero, CIA agent stories weren’t true, but I thought…he just left…really…shit, I know he never came back…but…”

“Their marriage hadn’t been good for a while. He was always gone, and Mom was always sad, and when he was home, they were always fighting. I only understood his drinking was the cause when I got older. I didn’t want to believe it myself, so I let myself live in the fantasies I created for you. I’m sorry I never told you the true story.”

Sam’s eyes drifted to the ceiling, and his body finally unwound. “Don’t apologize, Dean. None of this is on you. It shouldn’t have been your responsibility. I never realized how far back it went, how much you took care of when you were just a kid.”

“It was my job.”

“No, it wasn’t, and I know I’ll never convince you of that fact. But it’s the truth.” Walking over to the window, Sam said, “No wonder you’re afraid of flying.”

“Yeah, well, I need to find a way to get past it. Cas loves traveling, and I don’t want to be like Dad. If I’m going to be in relationship with him, I don’t want him to take off on his own like Mom had to.” Dean paused for several seconds before taking a deep breath. “I appreciate your offer, Sam, but…um…I think I need to do this on my own. I need him to know…ya know?”

“Yeah, sure. That clearly it explains it all,” Sam said as he chuckled. Before Dean could say anymore, Sam waved him off. “This is between you and Cas. I get it.”

Dean smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Sammy.”

 

After a rough couple of days, they were each trying to distract the other with a night out. They went to a movie before heading to a bar to play pool. As Dean went to sink the eight ball and once again beat Sam, his phone rang. The look of surprise on his face made Sam round the table to stand at his side. Within seconds, Dean was stepping toward the door. As he followed Dean, Sam heard him say, “Hang on, Aaron. Let me step outside.”

Once outside, Dean froze, and all the color drained from his face before his knees buckled. Sam caught him as he stumbled. He held on tightly to Dean, hearing snippets of Aaron’s words. “No word…in a convoy…lost contact…last known…” Anything else said was lost when Dean’s breathing grew ragged. Sam grabbed the phone. “Aaron, just give me a sec. I need to get Dean to the car.”

“Sam?” asked Aaron.

Concentrating on Dean, he almost forgot the phone until he dropped Dean into the passenger seat of the Impala and the phone snagged on the back of his coat. “Shit,” he said as he wrestled it free. Standing up, he dropped his head to the top of the door and took a deep breath to compose himself. “I’m ready,” he said anxiously.

“Sam, I’m sorry, but Cas is missing. There’s been no official word, and I wouldn’t know anything if Benny hadn’t contacted me. All we know so far is a possible confirmation he was with a group of journalists and aid workers in Southwestern Yemen. We don’t have the exact location yet. Benny could only provide minimal details and even that was breaking protocol. From the little he garnered, several journalists and aid workers were taken hostage. There were some casualties.”

Gripping the phone tightly, Sam asked, “And Cas?”

“We don’t know,” stated Aaron sadly. When silence ensued, he added, “As soon as I learn anything, even the tiniest detail, I will call.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Sam didn’t hear Aaron’s response, the phone suddenly a heavy weight in his hand. He stared at it for a few heartbeats until his gaze shifted to his brother. Dean was hunched over, hands buried in his hair, body shaking. Sam knelt down next to him and rested his hand on his back. Dean didn’t seem to notice the touch, so he pressed harder. “Dean, we should go home.” The lack of response increased Sam’s already vibrating nerves. “Dean, please. I need the keys to drive us home.”

The plea finally got a reaction out of Dean. It was only a slight nod, but it eased some of Sam’s tension. Without a word, Dean retrieved the keys from his pocket and handed them to Sam. Rounding the front of the car, Sam kept his eyes on Dean. He watched as Dean slowly sat up and shut the car door, buckling his seatbelt mechanically. When Sam finally sat down and started the car, Dean’s eyes were closed and his head was resting on the window. They didn’t speak for the entire car ride or when they entered the house. Silence surrounded them as Dean flopped down on the couch and immediately curled in on himself. Sam had no idea what to do. This was a Dean he rarely saw. Cas was usually the one who took care of Dean when he got like this. His mind raced leaving him no time to even think about his own fears. Solely focused on his big brother, Sam dialed his phone before he realized it.

The sound of a cheerful voice brought him back to the present. “What’s up, Sam?”

“Charlie.” Sam heard the gravity in his own voice and winced.

“Sam?” asked Charlie, worry evident, even in that one simple word.

Shaking his head and clearing his throat, Sam forced himself to focus. “We need you. It’s Cas.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. What does that mean, Sam?” yelled Charlie. Sam heard banging followed by the sound of a male voice. “Gabe, shut up. Sam start talking now,” she said in a rush.

“Cas is missing. Aaron called and we…fuck, Charlie just get here.”

“Okay, okay. We’re on our way.” Charlie was gone, and Sam was once again confronted with the gaping silence. He looked over at his brother and found himself confronted with a vacant, glassy look in Dean’s usually expressive eyes. It was a look he only remembered seeing on one other occasion. The day their mother died. That time it was gone in a flash as big brother Dean took over to shoulder the responsibilities. Part of him wanted Dean to step up and take over again. To wipe that look from his face and give his cheeky smile or crack a joke or say, _Everything’s going to be fine, Sammy_. None of those wishes came true, and Sam had to face the fact it wasn’t going to happen this time. This time he would have to take charge. He would have to shoulder the burden. He wondered if he was up to the task. Angrily, he shook his head. _You helped him after Cas left. You can do it again_ , he thought. _But that was different. Cas wasn’t missing then_ , he reminded himself.

The door banging open halted his internal monologue. Charlie and Gabe burst through the door at almost the exact same moment. Rushing inside, Charlie made a beeline for Dean, bypassing Sam as he stood mouth agape near the door. Gabe stopped next to Sam and grabbed his arm. They didn’t speak as they both stared at the scene in front of them. Charlie had somehow wrapped herself completely around Dean. Legs and arms secure behind his back. His face buried in her neck. “All right, Sam. Tell us what happened,” she demanded.

Tugging on Sam’s arm, Gabe made his way over to the couch and sat down. Sam followed, dropping down onto the coffee table. He was explaining the little news they had when a faint voice interrupted him. “I was going to surprise him.”

“Don’t give up, Dean. This is Cas we’re talking about.”

“Charlie’s right. Cas comes off all brooding and shy, but he is tougher than he looks,” Gabe said with a smirk. The twin glares he received from Charlie and Sam made him add, “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Still glaring, Sam said, “Not really time for that.”

“Well, what is it time for? We can’t just sit here waiting for news. We’ll all go crazy if we don’t do something to occupy the time.”

Having slid off Dean’s lap, Charlie rested her head against his shoulder. Dean laid his head down on top of hers as he said, “I don’t feel up to doing anything, Gabe.”

“I get it, but this…” Gabe waved his arm encompassing the four of them, “…is making it worse.”

“Never remind me of what I am about to say, but Gabe is right,” said Charlie. “We need a distraction.”

Slowly, Dean slipped off the couch and walked over to the bookcase he had painstakingly restored. It was filled with Cas’s books and items from his many travels. It also included several scrapbooks Dean had spent the last months putting together. Gently pulling those books from the shelf, he walked back over and sat down. Inside were emails, newspaper articles, images of Cas from TV news programs, photos of Cas, and photos taken by Cas. Sam had flipped through them after he returned home from college, impressed by the work Dean had done. As Dean slowly leafed through the pages, Sam watched his brother’s eyes. There was sadness and worry but also pride and love. When Dean settled on a page, Sam saw the image of Cas and Omari with a group of children. The smiles on the children’s faces seemed incongruous with the weapons in their hands. Running his hand over Cas’s face, Dean said, “He hates being in the picture, always thinking he is the observer not the subject. But for me, seeing him is the best gift. I know what he does, how hard he works, and how taxing it is on him, but these images always give me hope. Because despite his stoic pose, I can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes.” Dean flipped through a few more pages as everyone else remained silent.

The next image he stopped on was of a vast empty landscape. Desert as far as the eye could see. Followed by images of aid stations with never-ending food and water lines. The distance with which those photos were taken added to the starkness and the sense of despair. “Even Cas said he didn’t get it until he was standing there. _It’s growing, Dean, the damn desert is expanding_. He sounded so angry and disillusioned. So, unlike him, ya know?”   Dean didn’t wait for the others to acknowledge his question before moving onto another page. The news article was one they had all previously read and contained a photo Cas had taken of a woman cradling her child. Moments later the child had died.

“Sometimes I feel such hate,” Charlie whispered.

“I think we all do,” agreed Sam.

Dean merely sighed and returned to the book in his lap, closing it with a quiet reverence. “He was supposed to be in Africa for another two weeks. Sudan, then Nigeria, and, finally, Somalia. Why the hell did he leave Nigeria to go to Yemen?”

“You know why.”

“No, Charlie, I don’t. I don’t fucking know why. He had a plan. He was going to Somalia next and then to Italy. Not Yemen.”

Charlie laid her small hand over his clenched fist. “Yemen was always in his plans, Dean. Italy wasn’t. That was the surprise.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he went there-” Dean abruptly stopped as his phone rang. He grabbed it without even looking at the display. “Hello.”

“Put it on speaker,” urged Sam. Shakily, Dean complied with Sam’s request.

Aaron’s solemn voice filled the space. “Hey Dean.”

“And Sam, Charlie, and Gabe,” said Dean.

“Okay, well, I wish I had more definitive news for all of you, but there has been no confirmation on Cas’s whereabouts. We have, however, confirmed he is not one of the hostages. Benny called me personally with that news, and I know he wouldn’t have if he didn’t know it was the truth. The only other bit of news is that he was most certainly with that convoy. Visual confirmation was made by several of the survivors. Although they could not confirm which vehicle he was in when they were attacked.” Aaron stopped and inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. That’s all I know.”

“Wait, you said survivors,” snapped Dean, panic in his voice. “What does that mean?”

“Several people made it out unscathed. Others were injured, and as I told you earlier some people were killed. We still don’t have an accurate number for any of them.”

“How can that be? It’s been hours.”

“Sam, we don’t have a lot of people on the ground in Yemen. And the government there is already overwhelmed by the humanitarian crisis, and now they have a hostage crisis.”

Sighing heavily, Sam said, “I understand.”

“Well, I sure the fuck don’t. Cas is missing. He could be hurt or fucking dead for all we know. And what is anybody doing to find him?” Dean was practically seething when he finished speaking. No one seemed to have an explanation or soothing words. Dead silence hung heavy in the room.

It was Aaron who finally broke the silence. “You’re not the only one who’s worried, Dean. I’m doing everything within my power to find him. I’ll keep trying until I do.” He was gone before anyone responded to him.

“Fuck,” said Dean. “I’m an asshole.”

“Maybe this time you’re entitled, at least a tiny bit,” Sam huffed.

“Maybe,” responded Dean. “I can tell you one thing, that didn’t make me feel even the slightest bit better.” Sam wanted to disagree, but his heart wasn’t in it, so he found himself nodding. He noticed Charlie and Gabe doing the same. “I was hoping at least one of you would argue with me. Try to put some rosy, positive-ass spin on it. But by the looks of your faces, you feel as shitty as I do.” Dean pulled Charlie tight against him, tucking her head under his chin. “Not even you, Red.”

“Sorry, Dean. I just can’t. I’m terrified.” Charlie’s voice cracked on a sob as tears ran down her face. Dean held her as she cried. Sam felt the dampness on his own cheeks, unable to shake the dark images flashing across his mind. He felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. Turning he saw Gabe, all traces of his usual humor and joviality gone, his face grave with worry. That more than anything singled the gravity of the situation. Reaching out, needing more contact, anything to ground himself, Sam grabbed Dean’s hand. The four of them clung to each other as they sat waiting. Waiting for the call they needed, even as they dreaded it.


	19. Clouds over Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves.

A heavy fog and feeling of being trapped, drowning under the weight of water, permeated his entire being. His hearing was hampered, and his eyes refused to open. He couldn’t attune to the rest of his body and even breathing seemed outside of himself. Panic was waging a war inside of him as he desperately tried to claw himself out of it. Nothing seemed to make a difference in his attempts. There was a vague feeling of being watched and a slight pressure on his arm, but he was unsure if they were real or mere phantoms. Fear engulfed him first, followed by an intense and terrifying memory of heat and pain. Fighting against the memories became his sole focus. His mind was littered with confusion, and nothing good could come from adding to it by having to sort through the images crashing into his mind. He needed out of the fog. He needed clarity. That became his mantra as he waged his internal war.

None of it mattered, in the end, because the fog did not lift. The feeling of drowning only intensified until he felt death was imminent. His eyes failed to open. He couldn’t breathe. A sad resignation finally settled over his body and all else faded away.

A muffled sound pulled at the edges of his consciousness. He wondered how he could hear when the end had come. The sound grew in intensity, and he thought he recognized a voice. A voice which seemed to be saying his name, repeatedly and forcefully. The touch on his arm became more tangible, more real. He wanted to reach out and understand the nature of the touch. He pushed himself to move his other arm, finding the task impossible. A new wave of panic washed over him. The touch on his arm slowly slid up and down, soothing his frayed nerves, allowing him to settle enough to hear his name more clearly.

“Cas…”

A jumble of words followed, but he could not understand them. They slurred together and got trapped in the fog still surrounding him. It was only when his name was spoken again that his mind refocused.

“Cas, please…”

He tried to stay in the moment, but after the ‘please’ he lost the train of the words once again. His head began to ache uncontrollably, and his mind was slammed with a memory.

_“Cas, please just accept the compliment. And stop shaking your head.”_

_Looking at his compatriot in the backseat, Cas frowned in consternation, but refrained from shaking his head. “I don’t–” The concussive sound of an explosion cut-off his words as his body slammed into the side of the vehicle. His head snapped harshly, shaking his consciousness. The sound of screams echoed in his ears, bringing him back to himself. Heat and smoke filled the vehicle. When he looked toward the screams, he saw flames. The intensity of the heat forced him to shut his eyes even as he reached out for the driver. Pain rocketed through his fingers, across his hand, and up his arm. Yanking his hand back, he attempted to cradle it in his other hand, only to find it too hot to touch. Opening his eyes, he looked down at his arm. The skin on his hand was bubbling, practically melting before his eyes, and his sleeve was on fire. It was then he felt searing pain down his left side. Rolling against the seat, he tried to snuff out the flames, even as he tried to open the door to escape the vehicle._

_Bracing himself, he shoved his weight against the door over and over despite the severe pain it elicited. After what felt like hours, the door finally gave way. Cas fell to the ground, screaming in pain as he forced himself to roll, putting out the last of his clothing. Without looking back, he began to crawl away from the vehicle, now eerily silent.  After a few meters, his body could no longer comply and simply gave out. As he dropped his head to the ground, his eyes caught on the chaotic movements a few vehicles to his rear. People being dragged away at gunpoint. Others trying to tend to the wounded. Still others frozen where they stood. Guns waving in the air. And threading through it all, smoke and flame filled with screams of fear and pain. Cas closed his eyes as they began to burn with tears._

A dampness on his cheeks drew him from his memory. _Tears_ , he thought, _I can feel my tears._ Added to the ever-present touch on his arm, Cas began to accept his situation. He was clearly still alive and in the presence of others. One of whom seemed to stay at his side. None of these realizations helped him understand why he couldn’t move his limbs or feel most of his body. He wasn’t ready to face the possibilities tugging at his mind, so he swiped them away by trying to open his eyes and find answers for his other questions. Most notably, _where am_ I and _who is with me._ Concentrating solely on lifting his eyelids required more energy than he thought possible. It seemed such a minor task, and yet it was taking a herculean effort to accomplish. Exhausted after several attempts, he was ready to give up when the touch on his harm tightened.

“Cas, that’s it. You can do it.”

He wanted so badly to comply because the voice sounded familiar. It was filled with concern, even as it tried to encourage him. Friend was all Cas could come up with to apply to the voice. Not a name or a face. Just a word. He needed desperately to hear it again, so he tried to open his eyes. For the first time, he felt his eyelids flutter.

“Cas, come on, man. Let me see those baby blues.”

Friend was replaced with a face and a name. _Benny_ , Cas thought. _Why are you here? Where is here?_  Question after question rattled through his brain, but there would be no answers because Cas was trapped. He couldn’t move or speak. He barely succeeded in moving his eyelids, and he still didn’t understand how he was breathing. The panic he had buried started bubbling up again, trying to force its way out into the open. He wasn’t sure how, but it seemed he conveyed the feeling because before his panic boiled over, he heard Benny say, “Calm down, Cas. I’m here. The doctor’s on his way. Try to stay still, please, Cas."

_Doctor. Bed. Hospital. Benny._ Those four words ran on a loop through his mind until another was added. _Burns._

“The burns are the number one concern,” said an unfamiliar voice.

“What about the surgery?”

“We were able to remove the shrapnel and repair the break. The rest will have to wait until he is more stable. When is the transport…” The unfamiliar voice continued speaking, but Cas could not discern the words as the feeling of drowning returned. When it finally lifted, he wasn’t sure if minutes or hours had passed. He tried to take measure of himself and what he could percieve of his surroundings, but his mind was plagued by other images and the sound of panicked voices.

_“Fuck, we have to get as much of this burnt shit off as we can. Where the hell are they with the burn blankets?” Hands tugged at him. He watched as pieces of clothing and skin were lifted from his body. “Castiel, stay with me. I need to see those eyes open. Okay? Can you do that for me?”_

_Cas tried to answer, but his throat burned and no sound emerged. He felt his head nod, not sure how it happened, but grateful for it._

_“Good. That’s good.” Cas stared at the person speaking. He didn’t care if it was weird or uncomfortable because it was the only thing keeping him sane. It kept him from letting his eyes drift back to what they were doing to his body. “Castiel, we’re going to cover you now, and then we are going to move you. I’m sorry this is all going to hurt like hell.”_

_Cas nodded, eyes still locked with his rescuer._

_“Okay, let’s move.”_

_Cas’s eyes slammed shut as pain lanced his body. Every spot they touched seemed to send shockwaves of pain through his body. The rocking and rolling of the vehicle only intensified the pain. In the midst of the pain, he realized his already ragged breathing was growing worse. Each breath hurt._

Struggling to breathe wasn’t new Cas realized. It was there from the moment of the explosion, and it was here now as he lay in the hospital with Benny at his side. “Cas, we’re going to be moving you soon. The transport will happen. I don’t give a fuck if you aren’t military. They will take you, even if I have to force it at gunpoint.”

“Benny don’t be so dramatic. No one is going to deny Senator Novak’s son.” Cas didn’t recognize the voice, and why the hell was the woman talking about his mother. “She made the call herself after you talked to her.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t leave her much choice. Now, did I?”

“No, you didn’t. I wish I could have seen her face when you laid into her. See if that pinched expression she always wears would finally crack.”

Benny’s deep chuckle flowed over Cas, bringing with it better memories. Cas wanted to let his mind drift through them but stopped himself for fear of getting lost again.

“I wish he would open his damn eyes,” Benny said as he brushed his hand over Cas’s arm. The touch ignited Cas’s senses, renewing his desire to move or, at the very least, give Benny his wish. His eyes flicked back and forth as he willed them to open. It took several tries before a crack of light appeared. “Cas, Cas. It’s okay. Take your time. You got this.” Benny’s words rolled out in a rush, without a breath between them. “Come on, buddy. Look at me. You can do it.” Each word and phrase helped rejuvenate Cas’s flagging energy, giving him that extra push to keep going. The light grew in intensity as his eyes opened slightly wider. He winced, and then all progress was lost. Darkness enveloped him once more. “Shit, get the lights. It’s too fucking bright in here.” After several seconds, Benny said, “It’s okay, Cas. You can try again. You almost did it once.”

Cas took a second to relax, easing some of the tension inside. Once he felt more settled, he focused on opening his eyes again. The sliver of light returned, much less bright, but still present. He opened his eyes further, struggling to make sense of what he saw through his blurred vision. “Hey, there you are.” Benny’s face slid into his center of vision, blurry but easily recognized. A warm feeling of relief filled Cas at the sight of his friend. He tried to reach out and touch him, but stopped when Benny said, “Don’t try to move or speak. You have severe injuries and are hooked up to a bunch of machines.” The mention of machines drew Cas’s attention to the sounds in the room. The buzz and whoosh of medical equipment. Panic started clawing at him again. _Breathing, breathing, breathing_ , he thought. His hand shot to his chest and then up toward his mouth. “Dammit Cas, I said don’t move. You almost ripped out your IV.”

His hand was gripped tightly and lowered back to the bed. Benny leaned over him and looked directly in his eyes. “You're intubated. Your lungs were damaged in the fire. I don’t know anymore than that.” Cas blinked, trying to convey his understanding even though he still felt a bit panicked. Sounding pained, Benny added, “I don’t have a lot of answers for you about any of this. I’m sorry, Cas. We only just found you yesterday. No one knows how you got to Sana’a.”

A deep voice behind Benny said, “I can help with that.”

“What the hell?” huffed Benny.

“Hello, Benny, or should I say Captain.” It took those words for Cas to place the voice with a name. He tried to turn his head and confirm his suspicions. His eyes drifted over the man standing to Benny’s left. They hadn’t seen each other for six years, but he had changed little. “Hello, Castiel. Glad to see you awake. You had me worried.”

Cas blinked pointedly, wishing he could do something more to convey his need for information. Benny saved him from having to try anything further because he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Technically, I’m not here.”

“Arthur?” scolded Benny.

Arthur smirked at Benny and then addressed his answer directly to Castiel. “I’m here because I got a call about you. Kelvin called me after they got you settled in the aid hospital. They let me know the extent of your injuries, and the need to get you transported to a surgical hospital with a burn unit.”

Benny let out a heavy sigh. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? We were searching for him for almost a week.”

“As I said, I’m not technically here. The helicopter that transported him doesn’t exist, and no one from MI6 has any  knowledge of Castiel or his whereabouts. Benny, you know the drill better than anyone. I had to cover any tracks of our involvement. I shouldn’t be here now, but I was no longer able to get updates on Castiel’s care now that Kelvin isn’t involved. And Castiel, above all else, is a friend.”

There was a long pause. Cas wished he could interject, but neither man was looking at him, so he was left to wait. As he looked at Benny, he saw the clench of his jaw and wondered what exactly he was holding back. The deep breath Benny took seemed to relax his jaw. “Who is Kelvin?”

“He’s working with Doctors Without Borders and is an acquaintance of ours.” Arthur gestured to himself and then Castiel. “We’ve known him for years. I assume Castiel was here in part because of Kelvin.” Both sets of eyes trained on Cas, he blinked and nodded slightly to agree with the assessment. “Anyway, Kelvin knew I would do anything within my power to help.”

“How did he know you were in country?” asked Benny skeptically.

Chuckling, Arthur said, “He treated one of my team members a few weeks ago.”

Cas didn’t hear Benny’s response as exhaustion took over his body. His eyes closed, and he lost the ability to follow the continuing conversation. As soon as darkness surrounded him, he felt the white-hot pain and the fear. He couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of being confined. The area around him lit only by the flames spreading before him, licking at his body. He shuddered away, feeling the weight of metal at his back. The memory shifted to dirt and smoke and dragging his battered body. He wanted to shake it off but succeeded in only pressing other memories forward.

_“This facility is not remotely capable of handling this, Castiel. I have to make a call.” Kelvin left the room, and Cas was alone with another doctor. She seemed to be assessing his injuries, documenting them as she went. Her hand brushed a spot on his left side, and Cas’s body shuddered in pain. He wanted to curl in a ball to protect himself from the poking and prodding, but even the slightest movement was excruciating. Cas shut his eyes and tried to slip himself into another space. He didn’t see Kelvin return but heard him address the other doctor._

_“A helicopter will be here to transport him within the hour. We need to get him ready.” Within minutes, the room began to spin and a malaise settled over Cas. His last vestiges of consciousness registered the reason – drugs. There was a feeling of floating accompanied by a fog. He vaguely felt them working on his body. It was only when they opened his mouth that he felt a momentary clarity. “No, no, don’t,” he tried to say, knowing full-well he spoke no words. The pressure at his mouth scared him, and he began to shake his head and try to shift his body away. The hands on him tightened, and then he lost all semblance of consciousness._

Pulling himself from sleep, Cas expected to find Kelvin and the female doctor. Instead, he opened his eyes to see Benny seated next to his hospital bed, and a doctor he did not recognize standing beside him. “Welcome back, Mr. Novak. I’m Dr. Karman.” A flurry of activity swirled around the doctor as others swept into the room. Within a few moments, the doctor was explaining the process for removing the intubation tube. Cas grew increasingly impatient, wishing they would just hurry up and do it. When it was finally removed, Cas felt a burning sensation in his chest and struggled to take a breath.

“Your lungs were damaged by the heat and smoke you inhaled. The damage was less extensive than we were worried about, which is why we were able to remove the tube so soon. We weren’t sure we would be able to remove the tube before you are transported to Germany.”

Cas’s eyebrows raised at that news, and he tried to inquire why, but his throat was still not working well. Barely a whisper emerged. He finally managed to croak out a ‘why’ after several tries.

“The transport was organized much sooner than expected.”

“Dr. Karman,” interrupted Benny. “I think he is wondering why he is going to Germany. Is that right, Cas?” With a quick nod from Cas, Benny continued, “You are being sent to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. Once there, they will assess what measures need to be taken before you will be sent back to the states.”

Steeling himself, Cas forced out, “Okay.” Looking back to the doctor, Cas tried to convey his need for more information on his injuries. The doctor smiled and nodded.

“Mr. Novak, your lungs were the first priority, followed by the burns. Your burns cover about fifteen percent of your body. You have third degree burns on your left hand and forearm and a portion of your left thigh. The remainder of your burns are second and first degree and are located on your upper left arm and left torso. In addition, you have fractures in two ribs, a broken left ankle which we set in surgery, and we removed shrapnel from your lower back, near your lumbar spine. Additional surgery will be necessary when the swelling along your spine goes down. The other injuries you sustained were minor and easily treated.”

As the doctor catalogued his injuries, Cas tried to follow the progression by focusing on each body part mentioned. As he did, his fears from earlier returned. He still could not feel parts of his body. He started shaking, which only intensified his fears. “My legs,” he forced out through chattering teeth.

Doctor Karman looked toward the end of the bed before turning back to Cas and saying, “You were under heavy sedation which is muting the feeling in your body and maintaining your pain.”

Reiterating, Cas asked, “My legs?”

“Now that you are awake, we will be able to assess that more fully. The swelling in your back could be affecting the feeling in your legs.”

A woman in military fatigues entered the room at that point, prompting Benny to stand. “Captain, Senator Novak would like to speak with you.”

“Shit, Cas. I gotta take this. You’re in good hands with the doc here and with Sergeant Mills. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Cas dropped his arm off the side of the bed, halting Benny’s movements. “Is she here?”

“No, she’s still in Washington, and I’ve been working with her and the State Department over the phone.  Aaron’s working point, so I have no idea why she’d be calling me. I’m not sure of the details, but somehow he has received clearance to meet you on your arrival in Germany.”

“Okay,” Cas muttered, shifting his body until his arm returned to the bed. Whatever comfort he received from knowing he wouldn’t be alone once he arrived in Germany did not ease the tension he felt when he turned back to his doctor. “Check my legs, please.”

Dr. Karman did not hesitate, immediately lifting the blankets, allowing Cas to get the first glimpse of the cast on his lower left leg and the deep bruising along his leg ending at the bandages wrapped around his thigh. He inhaled sharply, wincing at the pain it caused. “Shit,” he whispered.

“Try to keep your breathing even,” Dr. Karman instructed. “And try to remain calm.” Cas closed his eyes, attempting to breath evenly even as the doctor asked, “Do you feel this?” Cas shook his head. “How about now?” A faint touch resonated from his right foot.  Cas nodded. “And here?” The touch was more pronounced, so Cas nodded once again. “Good. That’s good. How about here?” Pain shot through his left leg and up into his hip, forcing his body to contort away from the touch. “That is a good sign,” said Dr. Karman.

“Pain is a good sign,” Cas gritted out.

“It is. Dead tissue does not feel pain. Neither does a paralyzed limb.” Dr. Karman pulled the blankets back over Cas’s legs. “Do you have any questions?” Too tired to speak, Cas shook his head. The doctor excused himself with a pointed instruction to Sergeant Mills. “He needs to rest.”

“I’ll make sure he does,” she said with gravity. As he watched the Sergeant, Cas’s eyelids grew heavy. He heard her say, “Sleep, Castiel,” as he let himself succumb to his exhaustion. His vision before he drifted off was of the final moments before the explosion. The faces of the others riding in the vehicle with him. Faces who disappeared in the chaos of fire and smoke, violence and escape. His last thought was, _I got out, did they?_ ”


	20. Dean Stands Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought as a Thanksgiving gift, especially after the events of the previous chapter, I should let you know that you only have this chapter to go until Cas and Dean will be reunited.
> 
> Hope you enjoy. As always, I love hearing from you and thanks for the kudos.

Looking out over the crowd, Dean worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Making the decision to come to Florence was never a question, and despite the nerves he felt, he knew it was the right choice. This was what he could do for Cas. He couldn’t aid in the search. He couldn’t coerce the government to do more, but he could speak to those assembled about Cas and the importance of his work. So, as he waited for his name to be called, with Sam at his side, a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he steeled himself to do just that. When he heard his name, he pictured Cas and let himself smile at the image and at the memory of Cas encouraging him to speak at his high school graduation. Cas’s words resonated as he walked out to take his place - _What you have to say has merit, Dean? They should hear it_. The words had merit then, and they had merit now. Taking a deep breath, he thought, _Cas, wherever you are, this is for you_.

“When I purchased a plane ticket to fly here, I was coming for a much different reason. I was coming to surprise a friend. One who hates giving speeches, even more than he hates being the center-of-attention.  I wanted to be here to support Cas as he delivered his speech. I certainly did not want to stand in his place. But circumstances did not allow for those events to occur. Instead, the work he dedicated his life to has interrupted his plans. It isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. Cas’s plans changed and so did mine. I arrived several days early, so I could be in this city Cas loves, while waiting for news from Yemen. I wasn’t sure I could get up here and speak for him when we don’t know where his is, but as my brother, Sam, and I walked through the gallery, seeing Cas’s work, we were reminded of the fighter we know and why he does this work. The range of his images, their dichotomy, summarizes Cas’s views of this messy world. He captures the beauty, even as he exposes the ugliness. He shows us the dark, even as he showcases the light. He taught me to stand up. He taught me to be better and do better. It’s why I wanted to be a teacher. It’s why my brother is on the path to become a human rights lawyer. Cas taught us to see the world, to embrace the world, and to lift up those we could. He led by example. He will continue to lead by example, and those of us fortunate enough to inhabit his space should follow. So, go capture the beauty of this world, but shine a light on the darkness, just as Cas has done his entire career. Thank you.”

Tears welled in his eyes, blurring the standing ovation he received. Sighing, Dean knew it was as much for Cas as it was for him. The people in this room knew of Cas’s contributions to the world. Many walked the same path as Cas. Journalist, photographers, veterans, and refugees. Many knew Cas personally, affected by the man, not just the photojournalist. Those were the ones who cried along with Dean and Sam. They were the ones who embraced them as they stepped toward the crowd. It was overwhelming and shook the two brothers to their core. Sophie stood at their side, answering questions when Dean and Sam could no longer. Eventually, they excused themselves, retreating to the restroom to compose themselves before the reception.

“I’m proud of you,” whispered Sam when the door shut and locked behind him. “This was the right decision.”

“I know, Sammy. But, now what?”

“Now we go out there and enjoy the celebration. We honor him by sharing our stories, and –”

“Dammit, Sam. You know that is not what I meant.”

Sam nodded, but continued, undeterred. “But that is what we are going to do because we must. You said it in front of all those people. _It won’t be his last._ Those were your words, Dean. You have faith in him and so do I. They will find him. Benny will find him.”

“And if they don’t,” Dean said, forcefully.

“They will. Deep down you believe it, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Dean chuckled at that, ducking his head. “Yeah, I suppose I do. He’s never let us down before.”

“No, he hasn’t.”

As composed as they were going to be, Sam and Dean exited the restroom and made their way to the reception. Sophie greeted them as soon as they entered. “You should both eat something.” Without waiting for agreement, she beckoned them to follow her. Once they filled their plates, they ventured among the crowd. They were soon surrounded by a small group of people.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you meet Cas?” a short woman with dark hair and golden skin asked.

“Through our mother. She brought him home one day, and he stayed, even after we lost her,” said Dean with a smile.

“He helped raise me,” added Sam. “It’s been the three of us since I was fourteen.”

“Sounds like Castiel,” said a tall man with wild hair. “When I met him, he refused to give up, even in the wake of police orders. If he felt he could make a difference, he stayed.”

The stories continued in much the same way for the rest of the reception. Sam and Dean sharing a glimpse into their lives and Cas’s role in it, and the others sharing their encounters with the larger-than-life man they admired. The elephant in the room, remained just that, as no one talked about the fact Cas was still missing after five days. Regaled with stories and good memories, Dean could almost let himself forget.

It all came crashing back down on him, when they returned to their hotel. Exhausted physically and mentally, Dean flopped down on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, he realized another day had passed without word. As the sun receded and darkness swept in, he couldn’t keep the negative thoughts at bay anymore. He let every fear wash over him. Shuddering and crying in their wake, forgetting he was not alone until the bed dipped next to him. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. He wouldn’t want this for you.”

“And you know him so well.”

Sophie sighed, “I do, especially when it comes to you.”

“How is that?”

“You are always on his mind, Dean. Even in the middle of a war, his mind would drift to you. It angered me because I thought it put him in danger. But what it really did was keep him sane. It held the worst of the horrors at bay. He needs you, now more than ever. He needs you to be strong, so does Sam. So do I.”

Dean turned his head sharply to look at Sophie, the fierce journalist and warrior. What he saw instead was a woman consumed by worry. Whatever had transpired between her and Cas in Syria had changed their relationship from mentor and pupil to something much deeper. “You love him.”

She hesitated for several seconds, swallowing and looking away before finally saying, “What’s not to love?”

“Hmmm…does he know?”

“It’s not like that, Dean. I love him knowing full well his heart belongs to you. I love him without an expectation of more. It isn’t the same way you love him and he loves you. Not in the slightest.”

“I don’t really hear a denial in there,” Dean said with a smirk.

Sophie shook her head and smacked his shoulder. “Love comes in many forms, you ass. And every minute I spend with you, I see why you and Cas are suited for each other. No one could ever get in the way of the bond you share. All joking aside, I hope you realize that.”

Shrugging, Dean made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Bond? What are we soulmates now?”

“Dean, why do you do that?”

“Because he’s afraid of talking about his feelings,” said Sam as he stepped out of the bathroom. “Trust me, it’s a miracle he even accepted them himself.”

“Shut up, Bitch.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “No, Jerk.” Sitting down on the other bed, Sam said, “When is your flight?”

“Midnight. I wish I could stay longer, but…”

“You have a job to do. And Cas would want you to do it,” Sam said, filling in the blank.

Sophie smiled with a tinge of sadness. “Yes, he would. And if I hear anything, you two will be the first to know.” Patting Dean’s arm, she stood up and looked around anxiously. Sensing her discomfort, Dean stood and wrapped her up in his arms. “Hmmpf,” she muttered into his chest.

“Stay safe,” Dean grunted, letting her go. He watched as Sam escorted her to the door and gave her a quick hug goodbye and whispered in her ear. Part of him wanted to ask what Sam said, but the other part wanted to take a shower and go to bed. The second part won out. Without a word to his brother, Dean grabbed his pajama pants, entered the bathroom, and turned on the shower. The small room quickly filled with steam. Stepping into the shower, he tried to loosen his shoulders. He let the hot water cascade down his back, trying to focus solely on the sensation, but his mind would not comply. The quiet of the room allowed too much freedom for his mind. It wandered and wavered and left him feeling rung-out. More exhausted than when he stepped into the shower, Dean aggressively shut off the water and stepped out. He scrubbed his body as harshly as he could with the fluffy towel. Skin red, he pulled on his pants and left the claustrophobic room. Ignoring his brother’s questioning stare, he crawled into bed, burrowing under the blanket.

Sam sighed before disappearing into the bathroom and turning on the shower. Dean hoped for sleep to take him before Sam returned. He had spent enough of the day talking and answering questions, so he didn’t need to engage in any further conversation. Closing his eyes, he thought about his original plans for this trip. The love he planned to share. The romance he wanted to offer Cas, despite his usual aversion to all things romantic. Cas deserved the best, and Dean wanted to give him the best of himself. He just hoped he’d still get the chance. The last thought followed him into a fitful sleep.

He woke the next morning still tired and itching for a fight. Every time Sam opened his mouth, Dean snapped at him. Eventually, Sam stopped trying which made breakfast a tense, quiet affair. Even the fabulous view from the hotel’s top floor restaurant irritated Dean. The city of Florence was laid out before them through a bank of windows, but he couldn’t appreciate it because Cas was not here to enjoy it with him. They were supposed to be together, basking in the beauty and romance of the city. Dean had envisioned long breakfasts and clasped hands as they visited the city, followed by late nights. He could not allow himself to picture those nights anymore. Ignoring it all became easier than thinking he would never get to share even one of those nights with Cas.

In an attempt to block those thoughts, he looked down at the food before him, only to be confronted with another issue. Pushing food around his plate had become a habit since they received word Cas was missing. The little news they had received over the last days only compounded the problem.

“You need to eat,” said Sam.

“Leave it, Sam.”

“No. When we get word, you need to be ready, not exhausted and half-starved. You look like shit and that will hurt Cas when we see him.”

Dean stared at Sam. “There is no doubt in your mind. Is there?”

Sam shook his head. “No, there isn’t.”

“That’s…well, I’m not exactly sure if that’s delusional or amazing.”

“How about prescient?”

Dean burst out laughing. “You have to be kidding me.”

Shrugging, Sam smirked, “Maybe, maybe not.”

Having no response to that, Dean took a couple bites of his food. “Happy?”

“Yes,” Sam responded before standing up. “I don’t know about you, but I think we should call Aaron. There has to be some reason he ignored your call yesterday.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

 

After reaching their room, they stepped out onto the terrace. The place offered an aura of calm and Dean needed that as he placed the call. The phone rang for a long time, and Dean thought he was going to be ignored again. Just as he was readying himself to leave another ranting voicemail, Aaron answered. “Hello,” Aaron said breathing heavily.

Not interested in pleasantries, Dean angrily said, “Thanks for the radio silence. What the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, but everything was happening so fast, and I didn’t want to call until I had concrete information from those on the ground,” Aaron answered, pausing as if waiting for acknowledgement.

Huffing, Dean said, “Fine, whatever, just tell me what you know.”

“Several days ago, we received actionable intelligence that Cas was in an aid hospital within thirty miles of the attack site. Benny and another member of his team responded to this information. When they arrived at the hospital, they were stonewalled. No one would provide them any details. At 0900 hours yesterday, Sergeant Mills returned to the facility and found a nurse who was willing to admit Cas had been at the hospital days before but was no longer there. They could get no further information about his condition or if he had been transported or was released. At 1300 hours, another report came in about a VIP being mysteriously transported out of the aid hospital via helicopter. It took several hours for this fact to be confirmed and to ascertain the destination of said helicopter. The patient was found to have been transported to the burn unit at al-Thawra Hospital in Sana’a, according to that hospital’s records. At 1725 hours, Benny and Sergeant Mills arrived at the hospital and confirmed this information. It took another hour for the identity of the patient to be reported with the intervention of the US Embassy in Sana’a. At 1905 hours, Benny made visual confirmation and proceeded to alert the US Embassy and the State Department.”

Dean had wanted to interrupt several times to tell Aaron to get to the point, but the mention of a burn unit halted all other thoughts. His body felt cold and his mind was frozen.

“Dean? Dean, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, shakily.

“Since Benny made visual contact and has learned the nature of Cas’s injuries, we have been working to coordinate his transport. With the help of Senator Novak, we have arranged for him to be transported to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center.”

Bypassing, for the moment, the mention of Cas’s mother, Dean said, “That’s in Germany.”

“Yes, I will be meeting his plane.”

“When?”

“They are preparing him even as we speak.”

Dean exhaled sharply. “Are you telling me you are already in Germany?”

“No…but I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten hours.”

“And you are just calling me now?”

The sound of a tired sigh filtered through the phone. “Dean, we were not trying to keep you in the dark. It’s just that this whole process had several moving parts, and I wanted to be sure this was the final decision before calling you. We only got permission to send him to Landstuhl after Benny called Senator Novak personally, demanding her involvement.”

“Okay,” said Dean, conceding the point. “So, you are meeting his flight. What should Sam and I do?”

“Get a flight to Frankfurt. You can either take the train from there or rent a car.”

With all the logistics discussed, Dean knew it was time to ask the question he most dreaded. He closed his eyes and shut out all other thoughts. He tuned out Sam’s presence at his side and readied himself to receive the bad news which was surely to come. “How is he?”

“Dean, I think it would be better for you to wait until we can talk in person.”

Anger bubbled to the surface. “No, you don’t get to do that. Cas is my family. I need to know what I am walking into.” The dead silence which followed his statement worried Dean even further. The sound of a whispered conversation interrupted the silence. A female voice became distinct when the volume of the conversation grew louder, and he clearly heard her say, “Let me talk to him.”

“Dean, Senator Novak would like to speak with you.”

“What? Why?” he asked Aaron.

“Because I am Castiel's mother,” the Senator responded.

Rolling his eyes in Sam’s direction, Dean asked, “What did you do, steal the phone right out of his hand?” Sam raised his eyebrow in question. Dean shook his head in return, mouthing, “Hester Novak.” Sam’s expression of irritation matched Dean’s feeling on the subject.

“I did no such thing. He just knew his place, which would be a good lesson for you to learn, Dean Winchester.”

“Yeah, that isn’t going to work on me. I have no interest in kowtowing to you.  Now, if you have nothing to tell me about Cas’s condition, put Aaron back on the phone.”

Her anger was palpable, even over the phone. “My son’s condition is my concern and responsibility.”

“That isn’t going to work either because I am his emergency contact and the one on his healthcare directive, followed by Sam, then Charlie. Your name doesn’t appear anywhere because we are his family. Now tell me or put Aaron on the phone,” Dean stated emphatically with barely controlled ire.

“Fine, if you insist. Castiel has suffered burns along his left side covering his torso, arm, hand, and thigh. His lungs were damaged by smoke and heat inhalation. In addition, he was hit with shrapnel. The largest of which was lodged near his spine. He has undergone surgery to successfully remove the shrapnel. However, at this point, the swelling along his spine is limiting their ability to assess the outcome of the procedure.”

Each and every one of Cas’s injuries made Dean nauseous as did the unemotional delivery of the woman who was supposed to be Cas’s mother. “You can’t even feign that you care, can you?” Not bothering to wait for an answer, Dean said, “No need to worry yourself over your lack of motherly instinct, his true family will be there to help him through this. Tell Aaron we are on our way.” He hung up, putting her out of his mind and focusing on the tasks ahead. “We need to call Charlie and have her book our travel to Landstuhl.”

Sam glared at Dean. “I want to know what she said about Cas.”

“I promise I will tell you everything after we make the arrangements.”

The phone in Dean’s hand was already ringing. By the second ring, Charlie answered, “I’m on it.”

“Huh?”

Charlie chuckled. “Aaron already called. I’m booking your flight right now. And as soon as I get details from the docs at Landstuhl, I will start on the arrangements for bringing Cas home.”

The next several minutes were filled with Charlie’s recitation of the bookings she was making and promises to stay in contact. When Dean got off the phone, he opened the emails she had sent with their itinerary. “Man, she works fast.” Holding out his phone to Sam, he added, “We’re all set.”

Sam checked over the emails quickly and then looked up at Dean. “Tell me about Cas.”

Dean explained the search and Hester’s involvement. When he got to Cas’s injuries, he struggled to force out the words. Sam seemed to understand the difficulty and did not interrupt, even when Dean paused for long moments. After he finished, he sat silently, staring past Sam. Dean forced himself to make eye contact before he confidently said, “Let’s go get him and bring him home.”


	21. Cas and Dean on a Collision Course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter put me on a roller coaster. I used a changing POV within a chapter for the first time in this fic and trying to get the balance right seemed to take forever. When I was finally happy with it, I went back to do an edit and my computer shut off. When I turned it back on, all the work I had saved in my documents file reverted back to saved versions before Nov. 20. I eventually found the newer versions in some text file. Let's just say those few hours were awful. 
> 
> So, for me, this chapter was hard-earned. I hope you enjoy it and would love to read your comments on it.

“Castiel, it would be better for you to be sedated.”

Cas shook his head for the fifth time during the discussion turned argument. “Absolutely not. I have enough drugs in me already. I understand I’ll need to be restrained, and I understand it will be a long flight.”

“It isn’t just restraints. You will need to be immobilized even more than you are now. We cannot take a chance. The piece of shrapnel we could not remove is dangerously close to your spine and any movement could -”

“Dr. Karman, you have already explained all of this,” Cas said once again interrupting the doctor. “I know the dangers, yet you have cleared me for travel as have the surgeons consulting from Landstuhl.”

Heaving a sigh, Dr. Karman said, “If you are willing to listen to us on your clearance, why won’t you listen to us on the necessary requirements for you transport?”

“Because, you, yourself said it was NOT necessary to sedate me. You said it would be best, not required.” Cas looked down at his body, his lower half in traction. “I haven’t had an issue with this,” he said as he waved at his legs. “I can handle what is needed, but I refuse to lose any more time drugged to oblivion. I have already explained my history to you.”

Dr. Karman pulled up the chair and sat down next to Cas’s bed. “Yes, you have and no where in our conversation did you say you were an addict.” The doctor paused as if waiting for confirmation.

“I was not an addict, but that doesn’t mean…” Cas’s voice faded away as he closed his eyes, memories surfacing without his permission. Memories of blacked out nights and hazy mornings.  Of warm nameless bodies next to him in unknown beds. That Castiel was a distant memory, and he needed to stay there. “I can’t risk it,” Cas said, voiced laced with distress and sorrow. Cas didn’t know if it was his words or his tone of voice, but the doctor finally relented.

“I see I have no choice in the matter. This will require a slightly different game plan.” He stood up and walked toward the door. “I need to get to work, so this will not delay your departure.” Dr. Karman ducked out of the room. Seconds later, his voice trailed into the room. “He is one of the most stubborn people I have ever met.”

A deep chuckle followed. “That he is,” said Benny. “Usually it’s frustrating, but I would say in this situation that quality is just what he will need to recover.”

“True,” agreed Dr. Karman. “The new arrangements should not take long, as I was anticipating this result.”

 

The first hours of Castiel's aeromedical evacuation were a blur of activity, felt through a haze of drugs. Even though Dr. Karman had agreed not to sedate him, he made a point of dosing Cas with a heavy amount of morphine before moving him. Those who took over his care, once in the hands of the military, followed Dr. Karman’s plan to a tee, keeping Cas’s pain to the ever-present low hum running through the majority of his body. Currently, Castiel was enduring the second phase of his evacuation on board a C-17 Globemaster III headed to Landstuhl. The first phase, transporting him to a US airfield in Jordan, went off without a hitch. He remained fully immobilized and had a team of doctors and nurses attending to his care on both flights. It wasn’t until fours hours into the second flight when the situation changed. Cas felt something shift inside of him. Despite the medication, pain radiated up his spine and down his legs. His breath hitched as he grimaced. It was enough to signal the nurse currently attending to him. She immediately called over one of the doctors. By the time the doctor was standing at his side, Cas’s heart rate had spiked and his breathing was ragged.

Once they had stabilized his heart rate and regulated his breathing, the doctor proceeded to pepper Cas with questions. As Cas explained, he watched the steely expression on the doctor’s face shift. It was clear she was trying to hide her concern, but Cas could read the minutest change in someone’s demeanor. Facial clues were only the beginning. He trailed his eyes over the rest of the doctor. He saw the tension in her shoulders and the grip of her hands on his bedrail. It was then he interrupted the litany of questions with one of his own. “Is it the shrapnel?”

“Based on your description, I believe so.” Her anxious gaze finally settled on Cas’s face, holding eye contact as she added, “It was a concern the team had, but delaying your evac was just as risky. You need surgery and the sooner the better. We will alert the team in Landstuhl to prepare for surgery upon your arrival.”

“What about the swelling?”

Loosening her grip on the bed, the doctor said, “I’m not going to lie. The swelling does pose a problem, but they are equipped to deal with it.”

Cas tried to nod, forgetting, for a second, the limits of his range of movement. “Well, I guess I have no choice but to believe you.”

“You are a captive subject,” chuckled the nurse.

“Wow, low blow.” Cas’s voice was deep and menacing, but his smile gave away his true feelings. They both burst out laughing at the incredulous look on the doctor’s face. “It’s all right, Doc,” assured Cas once he caught his breath. “Mark and I have a similar sense of humor. And it’s appreciated.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Turning to Mark, she said, “Alert me to any changes.”

Mark nodded, all traces of laughter gone. Turning back to Cas, he said, “You should try to sleep.”

Cas knew he should heed his nurse’s suggestion, but his mind was stuck in a loop of pain and apprehension. Despite an increase in pain meds, his body ached and every few minutes he felt a stabbing pain. He wondered what exactly constituted a change in the eyes of his medical team. Thinking through all the changes to his body, all the damage. Burns, stitches, aches, pains, loss of feeling. The surgeries he already endured and the surgeries still to come. He didn’t know how one would even begin to distinguish any new changes. Making no progress with those thoughts, he pushed them away, only to let his mind fixate on other problems. His mother first and foremost.

He never wanted to owe her anything, and now he was in her debt. There was little doubt in his mind she would want to use him to gain sympathy and more support for her upcoming reelection campaign. It was the last thing he wanted as he disagreed with her on almost every issue. From the little Benny would tell him, it seemed Dean had found a way to stop her from meeting him in Germany. The reprieve, he knew, would not last. Once he was back in the states his mother would definitely try and reassert herself. Demanding a say in his care while pushing for photo ops and a good news cycle, using him as the poster child.

Since he left home, they had for the most part ignored each other. She only concerned herself with Cas when he was winning an award or garnering a significant amount of press attention.  The rejections she received never seemed to deter her from trying again. Dean had appointed himself in recent years as the buffer between them. He fielded her calls and flatly refused her requests. He always left no room for argument. It wasn’t a role Cas ever wanted for Dean and even more so now. Knowing Dean, he would try to take on too much responsibility involving Cas’s care and recovery at a time when he should be focused on the start of his career. Thinking of Dean and the arguments to come, Cas felt a heaviness in his chest as a wave of exhaustion swept over him. _There must be a way to circumvent the arguments,_ Cas thought as he drifted off to sleep.

 

A flurry of activity around Cas woke him and proceeded to quickly push him to the limits of his patience. He snapped at the latest nurse to attend to him. She didn’t engage, continuing her diligent work without hesitation. His irritation only grew when he overheard them contemplating intubating him again. Rationally, he knew why they were leaning toward it, but he resolutely refused to listen to that line of thinking. “Fuck that,” he yelled between gasps.

“Castiel yelling only exacerbates the current problem. If we can’t get control over your breathing and your erratic heartbeat, we will have no choice but to sedate you and intubate you. The more you cooperate and the calmer you keep yourself the better chance we have of avoiding those measures.”

With the pain and lack of control over his traitorous body, Cas was having a hard time tracking his surroundings, including the medical staff. Names seemed to allude him and at this point he had no idea which doctor was addressing him. “I am trying,” he managed to choke out in response. “But the more you talk…”

“Okay, okay. Look at me, Castiel. Follow my lead and breathe for me.” He recognized the nurse he had snapped at just a few minutes ago. She held his hand and helped him focus, reassuring him with her touch and her voice. They were left alone for several minutes, but Cas knew the doctor was near, watching and waiting.

Unfortunately, his assumption was proven correct when the doctor said, “One more of those and we won’t have a choice. Your body can’t sustain that kind of continual trauma. Not with the trauma it already suffered.”

Whatever fight Cas had left was gone, destroyed by exhaustion and pain. His chest ached and his body felt as if it had been hit by a semi-truck. Drawing what little strength he had left, Cas looked up at the doctor. “All right. I understand.”

“I am sorry, Castiel.”

A weak smile formed at the corner’s of Cas’s mouth, fading away quickly. Within seconds, his eyes closed without his permission.

 

******************

“Dammit, Sammy, hurry up.”

“Dean, the taxi won’t be here for at least ten minutes.”

Glaring in the direction of the bathroom, where Sam was currently taking his sweet time packing his toiletries, Dean said, “We need to be downstairs, ready and waiting, when it arrives.” Sam’s huff of annoyance in response prompted Dean to temper his tone when he added, “Sam, this is what I need, so please just do this for me.”

Ducking his head around the bathroom doorjamb, Sam quirked his lips in a cross between a smile and a smirk. “Thanks for being honest about your feelings.”

Dean glared at Sam before rolling his eyes and scoffing. “Don’t count on it happening again, and just in case you didn’t know, you’re a dick.”

“A dick who has complied with your wishes and is officially ready. Let’s go.”

The ride in the elevator was silent as Dean didn’t have the energy to talk and Sam seemed to sense that fact. It was only after they were safely, or not so safely, ensconced in the taxi that either of them spoke. Dean stared out the window at the mass of cars crammed together, making four lanes where there should only be three. Weaving through it all were a surprising number of motorbikes. “I don’t remember it being this crazy when we arrived.”

“We arrived in the middle of the night. Not a lot of traffic on the road then.”

The driver perked up, addressing the two men even as he hit the gas and swerved to avoid hitting one of the motorbikes. “This is not even a busy day.”

Dean who prided himself on driving fast and a bit recklessly at times, found himself gripping the seat on several occasions and looking over at Sam to see the same wide-eyed expression he knew was plastered on his own face. Arriving at the Florence airport, Dean breathed a sigh of relief, only to be reminded of where they were headed. Flashes of Cas and his injuries and the plane ride to come eliminated even the tiniest feelings of relief. He gripped his bag more forcefully, channeling his fear and anger into his fist instead of directing it at Sam. “Lead the way, Sammy.”

 

Despite Dean’s fear of flying, his mind was so preoccupied he barely registered the flight at all which was why he was shocked when the pilot announced their dissent into Frankfurt. He exchanged a smile with Sam and then gripped the armrests, preparing for his least favorite part of any flight. Exiting the plane, they made their way to the car rental agency. Sam had wanted to take the train, but Dean had insisted they would need a car once they got to Landstuhl anyway. Besides, Dean was ready to get behind the wheel of a car again, needing to have some control in this nightmare situation. Keys in hand, he slipped into the driver’s seat of a brand-new Volvo. The clutch was smooth and the car was responsive, and Dean enjoyed every minute of speeding down the A63 autobahn to Landstuhl. In a little over an hour, they reached the outskirts of the city. Immediately, an argument ensued.

“Give me the directions to the medical center. I’m not going to ask again.”

“Dean, there is no reason to go there yet. No one will be there. Aaron’s flight doesn’t get in for a few hours and Cas…come on, you know, we don’t have any idea when he will be arriving.”

“Aaron said they were preparing Cas when I spoke to him.”

Sam sighed, “Preparing him is the key. How long did that take? We aren’t even sure of where he was being transported. All we do know is that there would be at least two flights.” Sam slid his left leg up onto his seat, so he could fully face Dean. “We should go check into the hotel and get something to eat. And wait for Aaron’s call.”

Dean pulled his gaze back to the road, not willing to look at his brother’s pleading expression. Ignoring it didn’t matter because in the long run logic won out. In his mind, Dean knew Sam was right. It was his heart which didn’t want to give up the fight. As they approached the city center, he finally capitulated. Sam directed them to the hotel.

“We will only be five minutes from the hospital.” There was a softness in Sam’s voice as he reached out and touched Dean’s arm. “We will be there when he arrives. I promise.”

 

After checking into their hotel, they went in search of food. Not even an hour later, Dean was sitting on the bed nearest the window, staring at Sam who was currently pacing the room. Angry at himself for being in the bathroom when the phone rang, Dean could do nothing but sit on his hands to avoid yanking the phone out of his brother’s hands. From the little he had heard so far, Sam was talking to Hester Novak. Knowing that only intensified his anger and his desire to rip the phone away. He needed an outlet and yelling at the _esteemed_ Senator Novak seemed like the perfect choice. His only consolation was Sam’s clipped words and angry tone.

When Sam dropped the phone from his ear, Dean practically leapt off the bed. “What did she want?”

“Most of it isn’t worth repeating, but she did give me some details on Cas’s transport. He is currently aboard a military plane somewhere over Southern Europe. He should be landing at Ramstein Air Base in a couple of hours. Aaron should be there within the next hour.”

Dean listened to Sam, watching him, cataloguing every nuance. In the space between his words, the lie was there. Maybe not an outright lie, but definitely a lie of omission. “What aren’t you telling me?” When Sam’s eyes drifted to the ceiling, there was no doubt about the kind of news Dean was about to receive. “Tell me now, Sam.”

“The surgical team at Landstuhl has been alerted.”

“Alerted to what?”

“Dean, maybe you should sit.”

“Don’t pull that shit with me. Just spit it out.”

Taking a seat, shoulders slumping, Sam looked up at his brother. “There have been some complications on the flight and Cas needs surgery.”

“We already knew he needed more surgery.”

Sam shook his head. “Dean, did you not listen to what I said.” Confused, Dean stared at his brother. “I said there were complications.” Dean remained silent. “Something happened to Cas and he needs immediate surgery when he lands.” Dean understood Sam’s words, but he didn’t want tomaccept them, so he continued his silent treatment, hoping his brother would take the hint and shut the hell up. Sam, of course, did not. “Dean, do you understand? We won’t get a chance to see Cas before they take him to surgery.” A pause and then, “Dean?”

But Dean did not have it in him to answer, instead he rushed across the room and out the door. Not wanting to go far, he found himself nursing an ale in the hotel lounge. Sam joined him before his first beer was even half gone. “Sorry, Sammy,” he whispered without looking up from his glass.

“No need to apologize. This whole thing is one giant nightmare, and I’m not holding it together either.”

“Better than me.” Dean lifted his glass. “As you can see.”

Sam ordered his own drink, taking a sip, before addressing Dean further. “I shouldn’t have pressured you to talk right away. I know you prefer time to process.”

With a derisive chuckle, Dean said, “I don’t think any amount of processing is going to change this situation or my reaction to it. I am scared shitless.”

“Me, too.”

The brothers leaned against each other, offering what little comfort they could, and finished their beers in silence. Stepping out into the lobby, they spotted a familiar figure standing just inside the glass doors.

“Aaron, fuck it’s good to see you.” Dean rushed forward and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. He cut the hug short when he remembered this was the last place Aaron was supposed to be. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting the damn plane?”

“There is another hour before they land and…”

“And what?” snapped Dean.

“Why don’t we go up to your room and talk?”

“God, do all of you get together and discuss how to treat me with kid gloves. It’s bad enough from Sam and Charlie.” Dean rolled his eyes. Not bothering to wait for a response, he headed directly to the elevators, pressing the up button, over and over. It was probably not the best way to get the others to stop treating him like a child, but Dean kept at it anyway. An interminable time later, the elevator doors finally opened and the three men stepped inside. Sam and Aaron carried on a whispered conversation while Dean glared at the space in front of him.

Stepping out of the elevator Dean trudged slowly, entering their room last. “Well, we’re in the room. So, talk,” he said as the door clicked shut behind him.

“I won’t be meeting the plane as I planned. Cas has experienced several complications in-flight, including the need to be sedated. They will be rushing him to the medical center and right into surgery.”

“That’s basically the same shit Hester Novak told Sam. Why does that have anything to do with you meeting his plane?”

Aaron stepped closer to Dean, squaring up in front of him. “Because he won’t be awake. I wanted to be there as a familiar face, not for any professional reason. The logistics for his evac and arrival here are in the best hands. And my presence is unnecessary.” His commanding tone dipped away, replaced by a quiet plea of sorts. “So, I thought I would join my friends.”

Those words deflated Dean. Whatever biting comment he was planning on making vanished in a flurry of guilt and understanding. “Shit, sorry. I’m an ass.” Clapping his hand on Aaron’s shoulder, Dean said, “Now, we wait.”

 

The wait was longer than Dean could have ever expected when he said those words in their hotel room. Traversing the small waiting room, he groaned out his frustration. “How long is this going to take? We’ve been here for hours with no word.”

“Dean, you need to quit pacing and sit the fuck down. They are performing surgery on his spine and…”

Stopping in front of Sam, Dean loomed over him. “And? Why did you stop there, Sam? Don’t want to mention the fact Cas had a heart attack on the goddamn plane.”

“It wasn’t a heart attack.”

“Close enough.”

Sam stood up, pushing his chest into Dean, effectively moving him back a few steps. “No, I refuse to let you do this. His injuries are bad enough without you conflating them. The doctor said they took measures to prevent a heart attack, not that he had one.  Now, sit down and shut up for five minutes.”

Dean submitted to his brother’s request, knowing there was really no other choice. Arguing, pacing, and overreacting were only making him more agitated. The problem was nothing helped him calm down in these situations except Cas. “I miss him.”

“I know.”

They fell into a conversation about meeting Cas for the first time, interrupted briefly when Aaron returned with their coffees. Sam continued the story, describing Dean’s reaction when Cas pulled up on his motorcycle. Somehow, even in the harshness of a hospital waiting room and knowing the reason they were all seated in it, they managed to fill the time with laughter. Some tears, but mostly laughter.

The stories and laughter slipped away when the doctor arrived. “He is out of surgery and on his way to recovery. The surgery went remarkably well.” The rest of the doctor’s words were obscured in the rush of relief Dean felt. He vaguely heard Sam and Aaron asking questions and the doctor responding. He only wanted the answer to one question, nothing else mattered. “How long until I can see him?”

 

Sitting next to Cas’s bed, waiting for him to wake, Dean trailed his eyes over the bruises and bandages. The stitches and braces. He let it all sink in during this moment, so he would not do so when Cas’s eyes were on him. He knew Cas would not want the scrutiny, and he certalinly would not want pity. Sam and Aaron were standing at the end of the bed, doing their own version of scanning the injuries, with the added layer of discussion. Dean resolutely ignored them, having already received a vivid talk, replete with scans and imaging, from Cas’s doctor. Instead of engaging, he laid his hand on one of the rare free spots on Cas’s arm. The warmth of Cas's skin and the huff of breath between his lips grounded Dean, assuring him that Cas was here and alive. Movement under his hand, soon followed by a flutter of Cas’s eyelids, shocked Dean. A surge of anticipation and joy flowed over Dean until it all came crashing down. Panic ensued as the monitors went wild and nurses rushed the room. One nurse moved Dean out of the way, as the others ushered Sam and Aaron from the room. Dean tried to hold his ground, but the doctor insisted he give them room to work.

The three men huddled together, their own panic ratcheting up the longer they were left to wonder. When the doctor finally emerged, the ground went out from under Dean. “It was only a panic attack, but it has left him shaken and tense, which is the last thing we want. I’m sorry to say because of the nature of the attack he has requested not to see you at this time.”

Dean stumbled back, feeling as if he had been struck. He needed to see Cas’s blue eyes for himself. He needed to hear his voice. He needed to be at his side. “I don’t understand,” he managed to mutter when his breath returned.

“I know it is confusing, but this does happen. Sometimes patients need a little time to reorient themselves. A nurse will stay with him for now and she will let you know when he is ready.”

 

******************

 

Cas felt pressure from the three men waiting outside his door, even though he could not see him. Their mere presence was enough. The nurse didn’t help when she repeatedly asked if he was ready to see his friends. Drained and irritated, Cas conceded to a degree. As he waited for Aaron to enter, he thought over the plan formulated over the long hours of his flight and renewed after his panic attack at sensing Dean at his side. He only needed to get Aaron on board. The task would prove much more difficult than Cas ever imagined. From the moment Cas expressed his wishes, Aaron refused to agree, arguing fiercely for Sam and Dean. When Cas brushed off the arguments based on the topic of family, Aaron went for the obvious. “You are the one who made Dean your emergency contact.”

“That is irrelevant in this situation. I am awake and capable of directing my own care.” Cas turned away from his friend. “This discussion is over.”

“Castiel, please. You need to see them. They need to see you. Dean needs-”

“No, Aaron. Tell him I don’t want to see him.”

“And what reason should I give because so far nothing you are saying makes any sense.”

Cas stared at his friend, wondering why this was so fucking hard for him to understand. “I don’t want him to see me this way. He went through enough when Mary got sick. I am not his responsibility.”

Throwing his hands in the air and walking away, Aaron said, “That is the most asinine thing I have ever heard you say.” Cas ignored the words in favor of observing his friend finally comply with his entreaty. He watched Aaron exit the room and listened to the sounds of muffled voices in the corridor.

_This is for the best_. _Sam and Dean have been through too much already, adding my problems would be unfair,_ he kept repeating the words to himself. In time, he knew they would come to understand. The raised voices in the hall were making it difficult for Cas to believe his own thoughts. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the external noises and listen only to his internal monologue. Each time he failed, he started up the litany again. _They are better off. I can take care of myself. I need to heal first. When I do, they can rely on me again. Dean deserves to be free._

With each passing phrase, his chest tightened with loneliness and guilt. Tears slipped from his eyes as he pictured Dean’s expressive face consumed by hurt. The image tugged at him, ripping holes in his theory. He plugged the holes as best he could with another flurry of reasons. He lost himself in the recitation of those reasons until Dean’s angry voice briefly broke through. “What the hell, Aaron?”

 

******************

 

“First, he asked for you and not me, and now he is what…refusing to see me.”

“Yes,” said Aaron.

“Well, that’s bullshit.” Dean ran his hands aggressively through his hair. “I’m his family. I’m his…Why is he doing this?”

“For a bunch of stupid reasons. That’s why.”

Dean smiled at the utter exasperation in Aaron’s voice and the total disregard of Cas’s reasoning. That, added to the crushed look on Sam’s face, tipped Dean over the edge. “Ya know what, he doesn’t get to shut us out. No fucking way.” He patted Sam’s arm. “Don’t worry, Sammy, I got this.” He stormed past Aaron and marched right into Cas’s room, ignoring all the equipment and wires, the hospital smell, the bandages, the disgruntled expression on Cas’s face, and the sorrow in his eyes.

Cas turned away as Dean approached the bed. “No, you do not get to ignore me. I am your fucking family. After everything we have been through together, you do not get to pull away.” As gently as he could, with both anger and fear coursing through his body, Dean gripped Cas’s chin and turned his head to face him.

“Please, Dean, just go.”

“No. I know you’re hurt and nothing feels right. I know your first instinct is to go it alone, but you don’t get that choice anymore.” Dean watched tears fall from Cas’s eyes. “Because even though we never said the words, they were there between the lines, under the surface of our words, in the way we closed every letter with _always_. They were there when we said we would hold the rest within ourselves until we saw each other again. So, here I am, and I refuse to let another minute pass without telling you. I love you, Cas.”

“Dean,” Cas said weakly, as a sob wracked his battered body.

Placing his hand gently over Cas’s, Dean leaned in as close as possible. “I am here, and I am not going anywhere.”

Cas’s eyes trailed over his own body, settling briefly on each injury before finally looking back at Dean.

Dean saw the plea in Cas’s eyes. “It doesn’t change anything, Cas. I love you, always.”


	22. Cas, Dean, and Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for subscribing, now over 100 of you. I appreciate the encouragement, comments, and kudos. As a relatively new fanfiction writer, the most amazing part of this process is getting instant feedback from readers. So, thank you.

Cas could see his own feelings reflected in Dean’s eyes.  Even in the emails, without the words having been written, he had seen the love looking back at him but hearing the words, and knowing they were real and true and reciprocated, took Cas’s breath away.  Yet, he didn’t know how to accept it.  Not now.  Not when he was stuck in this bed, far from home, facing a long recovery and uncertain future.  Every fiber of his being wanted to push Dean away and protect Sam from ever seeing his injuries. Running was a path Cas had taken before, and it was in his nature long before he ever fled his childhood home.  It was a part of the man he had become.  One who traveled the world and tried to never look back.  The Winchesters, starting with Mary, were the exception to that rule.  For some reason, he always looked back.  He was drawn to them, to the way they had become synonymous with home.  That feeling grew with each passing year.  It didn’t matter where he was, how far away he was, or what chaos was occurring around him, his mind would inevitably seek out that feeling.  Images of Dean and Sam and their home, the years they shared, and the love woven through it all.  So, he knew, even if he wanted to run, it wasn’t truly an option anymore.  That fact did little to assuage his guilt over the current situation.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

“How is it supposed to be?” asked Dean.

Cas lifted his chin, eyes finding focus on the ceiling.  “Certainly, not with you taking care of me.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I…”

“Don’t.  There is no because here.  We help each other.  We support each other.  That is how it’s supposed to be.”

Sighing, Cas looked down once again at his body.  The thought of what was to come crashed over him.  Weeks, months, possibly years of recovery.  “You didn’t sign up for this.”

“So what?  I’m supposed to bail on you now.  Do you think so little of me?”

“Dean, that’s not -”

Scoffing, Dean cut Cas off.  “What you meant.  Well, that’s how it sounds.  I don’t let a lot of people in.  And I certainly wouldn’t abandon those I do at the first sign of trouble.  There is no timetable on my love.  No criteria you have to meet.  I would rather have you.  Injured or not.  Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”

The emotions Cas had held tight to his chest, the tears he was trying desperately to will away, suddenly burst forth again.  He wanted nothing more than to bury his head in the pillow and hide it all from Dean.  He knew his effort was futile, yet he tried anyway.  The gentle touch on his arm made his skin crawl, renewing his desire to bury his emotions.  Dean, however, had other ideas.

“You don’t have to hide it from me.  I’ve seen it before.  I know you have feelings, and I know you cry.  You’re not some kind of soldier or robot.  Even if you never wanted me to see you like this, I did.  The maple tree…”  Cas immediately fell into his memories.  Images of all the times he found himself under the tree, baring his soul to the canopy of leaves and the ground below him.  When he tuned back in, he heard Dean finish,  “…I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have watched you.”

Realizing hiding would not work, that it never had, Cas turned to face Dean, letting him see the tears on his face.  “I wondered if you saw me out there.  The first time…it was so unexpected.  You had just found out about your scholarship, and I pulled you into a hug.  Your lips grazed my skin,  and my breath caught and my heart raced.  I stepped out of the hug to put some distance between us.  I didn’t want you to see how affected I was, so I tried to school my expression, hoping you didn’t sense my strange reaction.  You left to go talk to Sam, and I ran from the room and out the back door.  I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.  By the time I dropped down near the tree, I was struggling to breathe.  I’m pretty sure it was a panic attack.   I knelt out there with all these thoughts running through my head, each making it harder to breathe.  I faced some truths that day.  Truths that made my life a conflicted mess for years.” 

Dean stared at Cas with confusion written all over his face.  “I don’t understand.”

Chuckling through his tears, Cas said, “That’s because you didn’t let me finish.  Everything changed for me that day.  I knew you were no longer a kid, and you hadn’t been in a long time.  Having to take care of the house and parenting Sam had forced you to grow up too fast.  But when I hugged you, I realized your body matched the man you had become.  I had worked hard up to that point not to notice or look at the changes, yet I found my gaze drifting over your body on several occasions.  You had grown into a very attractive man with the most amazing heart and soul.  I knew I would never be able to put that genie back in the bottle.  And having you in my arms broke down the last barrier.  I couldn’t deny…”  Cas’s voice trailed off, embarrassed by his long-ago thoughts.

“Cas, what couldn’t you deny?”

With red cheeks and heat suffusing his body, Cas said, “How aroused I was.”

“That was…shit.”  Dean shook his head and ran a hand down his face.  “You mean, all these years.  Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

A bitter laugh erupted from deep within Cas.  Years of pent-up frustration bubbling over uncontrollably.  “Are you serious?  When exactly was I supposed to tell you?  How about when I didn’t know you were bisexual or when you were dating a series of women.  Or maybe I should have told you on the numerous occasions you called me your brother.  Oh, and let’s not forget your long-term relationship with Carmen.”

Dean’s cheeks flushed crimson, and he ducked his head.  Cas couldn’t help the warmth suffusing his body at how young and adorable the man looked.  Part of him wanted to assure Dean it was fine, but the other part wanted to wait for Dean to respond.  Waiting won out.

A slightly uncomfortable silence settled over them.  Dean rubbed the back of his neck, flicking his eyes up every few seconds.  During those brief moments, Cas tried to hold Dean’s gaze by offering a smile.  Eventually, Dean’s glances grew longer.  “Yeah about that,” Dean said.  “Um…it was…Sam said…shit, why is this so hard?”

Cas thought he caught his childish laugh before it escaped, but Dean must have heard it anyway because he said, “Really?  Now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” feigned Cas.  At Dean’s raised eyebrow, Cas laughed out right.  Dean joined him, causing them both to laugh full-throated and unadulterated. 

“I can’t believe it took a dick joke for me to truly laugh for the first time in months.”

“Even worse,” smirked Cas, “Is the fact I didn’t even voice the innuendo.”  Cas stared at Dean as that fact sank in, watching as his cheeks darkened and his grin grew.  The smile quickly dissipated as the expression on Dean’s face grew serious, and a tear slipped down his cheek.  A tear created in laughter but spilled, Cas suspected, for a very different reason.

“God, I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Dean.”

“Then don’t push me away.”  Dean stood up and leaned over the bed, stopping mere inches from Cas’s face.  “Promise me.”

Cas felt dampness on his cheeks, not sure if it was his or Dean’s tears, joining the salty tracks already on his face.  Either way it was the mingling of those tears, the shared emotion that mattered and solidified Cas’s decision.  He nodded, keeping his eyes glued to Dean.  “I promise.”

“And no hiding.”

Sighing, Cas said, “That will be much more difficult.”  He tipped his head to the side.  “For both of us, I might add.”

“Yeah, that’s true, considering I didn’t even recognize my own feelings until you were already gone.”

“I thought it was Sam who made you see -”

“Oh, no, you aren’t going to feed into his already inflated sense of ego on this,” blurted Dean, effectively cutting Cas off.

Cas pictured Sam’s earnest face and long hair.  “He guessed how I felt about you, too.  He was very perceptive.  To be so young and to see those around you so clearly…”  Cas’s voice faded, lost in memories of Sam and their conversations.

“Speaking of Sam, he…I’m sure he wants to see you.”

“I don’t know if he should.  He’s so young.”

Dean grinned widely, and then winked as he said, “You just admitted to having a thing for me when I was that age.”  Mortified, Cas closed his eyes and exhaled sharply.  “Hey, hey.  Cas, don’t do that.  I was just teasing.”  A light squeeze to his elbow pushed Cas to open his eyes and look at Dean.  When blue eyes met green, Dean continued, “But, on a serious note, if you think we can keep Sam out of this, you’re dead wrong.  He has already questioned every medical professional he can find and has been on every medical site available.  Even before we got here, he was badgering Aaron for details constantly.  I’m sure by now he’s moved on to harassing Charlie about the plans for bringing you home.  And as much as it pains me to admit it, he isn’t a little kid anymore.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Dean Winchester?”

“Very funny, old man.”

“If I could move, I’d whack you upside the head for that comment, young man.”  Cas’s disgruntled voice was belied by the genuine smile on his face. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” whispered Dean, voice reverent and raw.  Before Cas could speak, Dean shot him down.  “I see that look.  Don’t bother trying to argue or disagree with me because it’s true.  That smile, your goddamn gorgeous blue eyes…you’re so fucking beautiful, Cas.  I was so scared I’d never get to see that smile, those eyes, see YOU again.  I thought I lost you before we even got a chance to be together.  So, you're going to have to get used to me spewing romantic crap at you.”

“Okay,” Cas managed to mumble as another wave of emotion threatened to spill over.  He attempted to rein in the feelings, needing to protect his already exhausted mind and body from another bout of tears.  After taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Cas, voice strong and clear, said, “Okay, romantic crap it is.”

Dean nodded, stood up, and turned toward the door.  “Good.  I’m going to…ah…get Sam.” 

 

******************

 

Flushed with embarrassment, Dean wanted out of the room and fast, but for some reason his feet would just not move.  The urge to turn back around and drop back into the chair next to Cas was overwhelming.    “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean flipped around to face Cas, anger and hurt coursing through his body.  “I know that, but…how many times did you tell me you would keep yourself safe?”

“Dean, I never promised you I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Do you think I don’t remember that?  Everyone one of those conversations is seared into my brain.  I repeat them over and over, wondering if I could have convinced you to come home if we…if I had…”

Cas reached out for Dean, wincing in pain.  “Dean, sweetheart, please come here.”

Closing the distance between them in two quick strides, Dean gripped Cas’s hand and gently placed it back on the bed.  “Jesus, don’t hurt yourself.  I’m right here, okay.”

“I made you a promise, and now I need you to make me one.”

“All right,” nodded Dean.

“Promise me you will not blame yourself and play the ‘what if’ game.”

Dean shook his head emphatically.  “You know I can’t make that promise.  This is who I am.”

With a sad smile, Cas said, “Yes, it is, but I am still going to ask you to try.  Promise me, you will at least try.  I need you to do this because I have enough guilt already.”

“Guilt?  What do you have to feel guilty for?”

“They all died,” Cas said, voice so low Dean had to strain to hear it.

 _Fuck_ , Dean thought, Wh _y the hell did they tell him and what the fuck am I supposed to do now.  I thought they weren’t going to tell him anything until he was more stable.  Talking about this shit can’t be good for him.  The stress can’t be good for his heart._ There weren’t any good options.  Avoiding the topic, now that Cas brought it up, would only make him angry.  With that thought in mind, Dean steeled himself for the inevitable conversation, dropping his left hand to his knee and squeezing hard.  “Cas -”

“Dean, they died.  I left them there to die.  The fire it was everywhere.  They were burning, and I just crawled out of the damn vehicle and left them.”

The abject horror on Cas’s face made Dean halt his initial reaction.  He swallowed back the, _whoa, hold on a minute_ , he was about to say.  Finesse was not his strong suit.  Blunt statements and deflective humor were more his go to, but Cas did not need either of those.  A delicate touch, honesty without being brutal.  In other words, sensitivity was required.  Holding Cas’s hand and eye contact, Dean said, “I’m not going to lie to you or try to brush off the truth.  What happened was tragic and lives were lost.  But the fault and guilt lie with the terrorists who perpetuated the attack and the Saudis who continue their destruction of Yemen.  No one, not you, or the others in your convoy are to blame.”

Almost the entire time Dean was talking, Cas was shaking his head.  Disbelief, anger, and hurt waging a war in his eyes.  “But I got out.”

“And I am so glad you did.  Surviving is not wrong, Cas.  It’s not a punishment or a flaw in your character.  It doesn’t mean you abandoned them or forgot about them.  You were severely injured.  At some point, you were unconscious.  What could you have done?”  Dean stopped for a brief moment to quell the sadness and fear welling up inside of him.  “The thing is Cas, Benny told us.  It was a miracle you made it out.  The others were gone too quickly for anyone to help them.” 

“Not all of the others.  I watched them take…”

“Armed men took those people to hold them hostage.  They would have killed you if you tried to stop them.  I know, for you, jumping in to help is second nature.  Your protective streak is a mile wide.  But I also know you get out when the odds are against you.  And that is all you did, Cas.  The only thing you could do was save yourself.  There was no other option.”  Cas sat completely still, eyes unblinking and unseeing, even as they remained fixed on Dean.  It was disconcerting and had Dean wondering if any of his words reached Cas.  Not knowing what else to do or say, Dean leaned over Cas and brushed his lips against Cas’s forehead.  The touch seemed to break Cas’s stony countenance, so Dean gave Cas a firmer kiss on his temple. 

“You can go and get Sam now.”  Cas’s voice quavered, but his gaze was resolute.

“All right, Cas.  I can do that.”  Dean stepped back from the bed, gave Cas’s hand one more squeeze, and then he forced himself to walk away, hoping it wasn’t a mistake.  The pervasive fear of losing Cas making itself known again.  As he stepped out of the room, he felt a pang in his chest.  “He didn’t say it back,” he said under his breath.  The second the words were out he regretted them. The fact he even thought those words in this moment disturbed him deeply.  Cas was hurt and guilt ridden.  It was selfish of Dean to worry about Cas not saying, _I love you_ , back.  Not when his friend was in the middle of crying and breaking down.  _I’m being ridiculous_ , he thought.  Walking down the hall to the waiting room, he brushed off his worry when he remembered Cas calling him ‘sweetheart’.  In the midst of their difficult discussion, the endearment hadn’t registered, but now that it did, a sense of peace settled over Dean.  He felt warm and loved. 

He realized his feelings were plastered all over his face, when he heard Sam say, “What has you looking so dopey?”

“Shut up, Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam said with no bite. 

Dean looked at the empty seat next to Sam.  “Where’s Aaron?”

“He received a call from Washington.  From the pinched expression on his face, I think it had something to do with Hester.  Before he left, he said he would bring us some food when he’s done with the call.”

Irritation replaced the warmth Dean had felt.  “She is going to be a problem.”

“A problem for another day.  Today is only about Cas.”  Sam hesitated for a moment.  “Is he…”

“Come see for yourself.”

Sam practically bounced out of his seat.  “Really?”

“Yes, really.  He wants to see you, but Sam, try not to focus on how he looks.”

“What the hell, Dean?  I’m not an idiot.”

Sighing, Dean said, “He’s worried about you seeing him like this.  Protecting you is such a big part of who he is.”

“No shit.  You and Cas are two peas in a pod when it comes to smothering me.  I handled mom’s illness, and I can handle this.  We are a family Dean.  I need to be there for him just as much as you do.”

“Yeah, I told him pretty much the same thing.  Actually, I said you weren’t a kid anymore, and his jaw just about dropped to the floor.”

Sam beamed at Dean, pulling him into a tight hug.  “Thanks, Dean.”

“Okay, okay.  Let me go, you big lug, and we can go see Cas.”

Sam dropped his arms and stepped back.  “After you.”

The walk to the room was silent until they were approaching the door.  “Sammy, we have to be strong for him.  He hates showing weakness, but he broke down several times when I was with him.  If it happens when you’re in there, just go with it and don’t focus on it.”

Sam nodded and followed Dean in the door.  Cas’s eyes were focused on the door, and he smiled, shyly, when his gaze stopped on Dean.  The grin grew when his eyes drifted to Sam.  “Hello, Sam.”

“Cas,” said Sam, as he rushed past Dean, the stoic Stanford student gone, replaced by the nervous energy and boisterousness of a little kid.


	23. Sam's Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy a bit of Sam's perspective. He learns a few things about their friends.

“Sam, be careful.”

“I’m not an idiot, Dean.” Ignoring his older brother, Sam leaned his hip against Castiel’s bed and reached out to hug him.

A hurried scuffle of feet and a deep sigh were followed by Dean’s exasperated voice. “You’re drooping your freakin’ moose body all over him.”

Sam turned and glared at Dean, but before he could retaliate in anyway, Cas said, “Dean, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “He still doesn’t need to jump on you like some little lost dog, especially when he’s more full-grown St. Bernard than puppy.”

Sam’s first reaction was to give Dean one of his patented bitch faces, but all his irritation drained away when Cas chuckled. The sound was beautiful and comforting. Sam couldn’t help the smile that erupted unbidden on his face. A quick glance at Cas and then at Dean revealed similar expressions on their faces.

“I really am okay,” said Cas, patting Sam on the arm. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” responded Sam. “Not knowing was the worst part.”

“I had a similar feeling when I first woke up in the hospital in Sana’a. I was so grateful Benny was there.” Cas paused, looking at Sam with a perplexed expression, brow pinched, eyes calculating.

“What is it, Cas?” asked Sam.

“How are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

Huffing, Cas closed his eyes. “I mean,” he stated through clenched teeth, “how did you get here so fast? Flights from Kansas to Germany aren’t -”

“Not Kansas,” interjected Sam. “We flew from Florence. Um…Dean…you should tell him.”

Dean stepped closer to Sam, taking Cas’s hand in his. “Before we got the call that you were missing, I was packing for Italy. I wanted to surprise you. But then it all went to shit. Waiting around the house was pointless and…it was too damn hard…so we decided to take the trip. I talked it over with Sam and then we talked with Sophie. We…I wanted to…” Dean’s voice faded as his gaze shifted to Sam.

Dean’s wide unsure eyes met his. Sam nodded at Dean in understanding. “What Dean is trying to say is that we went to Florence to attend the grand reopening and exhibition in your place.” Cas’s eyes shimmered as he stared up at Sam. “And Dean gave one hell of a speech.”

Cas whispered, “He did?” His blue eyes left Sam and found Dean. “You did?”

Dean blushed under the scrutiny. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” said Sam.

“I agree with Sam. Just the fact you were willing to get on a plane to surprise me is enough, but for you to do it under these circumstances and then stand in for me and give a speech. I…thank you, Dean.”

The two men stared at each other, lost in the connection they shared. It made Sam smile until his patience wore out. He bounced once before blurting, “There’s a video.” He yanked his phone out of his pocket and proceeded to play it before Dean could protest. Cas cried silent tears as he watched Dean. As the video played, Dean inched closer to the bed, eyes fixed on Cas. Sam suddenly felt as if he was invading a private moment. _Like old times_ , thought Sam, yet this felt different. More intense, more intimate. Love was written all over their faces, and Sam knew he needed to step away. Without a word, he pocketed his phone and left the room.

Sam glanced back in time to see his brother lean over Cas, brushing his hair back and placing tender kisses to his forehead, at the corners’ of his eyes, and on his tear stained cheeks.

“It’s about time,” said a voice to Sam’s left, making him jump.

“Holy shit, Aaron. I didn’t hear you.”

Aaron smirked, “Obviously, you were too busy spying on them.”

“I’ve just never seen Dean like that. When Mom was sick, sure he was attentive, but he was so busy trying to be the adult, to be professional. I’ve only ever seen him crack when he thought I wasn’t around and only ever with Cas. But that right there, him taking such tender care of Cas and Cas openly accepting it, being vulnerable in front of Dean, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see the day.”

Quiet followed Sam’s statement, both men needing time to reflect on it even as they continued to watch the scene before them. Aaron broke the silence when Dean stepped back from the bed and pulled the chair closer. “If there was any chance for Cas to give himself to someone, it was going to be Dean. Those of us who were foolish enough to think otherwise learned the hard way.”

Sam, utterly confused at those words, turned to look at Aaron. “What?”

“Come on. If we’re going to have this discussion, we should find somewhere more comfortable to sit. Besides we should probably eat this food before it gets cold.” He held up the bag in his hand, gesturing down the hall.

Once they were seated in a quiet alcove, Aaron began. “When I met Cas, I was instantly enamored. Not a word I would usually use, but it was undeniable.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I didn’t know then that I had no chance. Cas’s heart belonged to Dean and it always will.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You knew?”

“For a long time. When I was younger, I didn’t get it, but when I got older, I understood. The way he looked at Dean…” Sam shrugged. “You said something earlier about learning the hard way?”

A flicker of sadness flashed in Aaron’s eyes before his lips quirked up in the approximation of a smile. “It wasn’t just me. I am in esteemed company if you must know. Let’s see. There’s Carlos, Victor, Julian and, of course, Sophie. We sort of formed a club. I’m not really sure how it started except that Charlie was the instigator. After she realized all her attempts to set Cas up or to encourage him to pursue something with one of us were doomed to failure, she sort of adopted us. Sophie, of course, laughs at being included. Cas being gay and all.”

“Wait,” Sam said unable to contain his shock any longer. He had wanted to interrupt the second Aaron said Victor’s name but had managed to hold off. The repeat of Sophie’s name, however, triggered his outburst. “Sophie? Victor? Are you saying they are interested in Cas?”

“Sophie loves Cas, but as she frequently points out, she never let her feelings develop too far. Victor, well, he wanted to say something, but after the fiasco of my experience, he let it go.”

Sam let these new developments sink in before asking another question. He knew the situation with Aaron was tense and uncomfortable and had strained the friendship between Cas, Dean, and Aaron. Julian didn’t surprise him at all. The few times they met it was pretty obvious Julian had feelings for Cas. His eyes always trailed Cas across a room. And then there was Victor, Sophie, and Carlos. The fact that Charlie seemed privy to all this information and never shared it with Sam irked him. He had spent a lot of time with Charlie at the studio and thought they had grown close. “You said Charlie adopted you?”

“Yeah, well, she was privy to all of our situations and to Cas’s situation. She was the one pushed Cas to sign up for online dating. Carlos was one of those epic failures, even though they remain friends. I think she found the whole thing ironic. Cas was hung up on someone, and we were all hung up on Cas. After she met Julian and the three of us worked together on a project in Puerto Rico, we bonded over it. Her long friendship with Cas gave us insight, and I think it helped all of us put our feelings to rest.”

An inkling came over Sam. One that had been nagging at him for days. Charlie was devastated when Cas went missing and desperate to see him when he was found, yet she wasn’t here. “I know Charlie is working on bringing Cas home, but don’t you think she’d rather be here?” The question seemed to floor Aaron, and Sam was at a complete loss. _How could that be shocking?_ he thought.

“Um…Sam…how much do you know about Charlie’s background?”

Sam went to answer when it dawned on him that he knew little of Charlie’s life before she moved to Kansas. Whenever it came up in conversation, the subject would get changed, either by Cas or Charlie, or, if Sam was being honest with himself, even by Dean. “Only that she and Cas were close friends when they were kids, especially after her parents died.”

“Oh, wow. I just assumed you knew.” Aaron rubbed a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath. “If they haven’t told you, maybe I…” Shaking his head in frustration, Sam frowned at Aaron. “I get it, Sam. Being the youngest sucks sometimes. Fine, here goes. Charlie and Cas have known each other since they were in kindergarten. They became friends and, you’re right, the accident made them closer. Charlie’s dad died in surgery, but her mom was in a coma and had to be put into long-term care. Charlie was only in middle school and no one wanted to pressure her to make decisions, so Cas’s mother helped pay for the medical bills and found the facility. Charlie ended up with a hatred and fear of hospitals. The fall-out came when Charlie started running away from her foster home and then the group home. Cas supported her and tried to get his mother to help. In the end, Hester saw Charlie as a bad influence and demanded Cas never see her again. It drove a wedge between them that has never healed. Cas chose Charlie and has chosen her ever since. He left home, went on the road, and started his career. He took over paying for her mother’s care until Charlie made the decision to remove life support. By then, Cas had met your mother and was spending a lot of time in Kansas. Charlie moved to Lawrence, needing to be near her friend as often as possible. With what happened to her parents, being in and around hospitals is difficult for her.”

Sam was stunned. “Damn, all this time I had no idea what she went through.”

“Now you understand why we decided to keep Charlie at home. She would have come, but Dean, Gabriel, and I decided she shouldn’t.”

“That’s why you put her in charge of all the arrangements. The transport and hospital. The changes at home.”

Aaron nodded. “She’s the best person for the job, so it serves both purposes. When I talked to her today, she was working with a contractor on the house plans.”

It was something Dean and Sam had only briefly discussed. Dean didn’t want to discuss the extent of Cas’s injuries, and Sam was unsure of how or where to begin. “Speaking of the plans, we should probably talk to Cas about it. He won’t appreciate being left out of the decisions.”

 

Sam sat back and watched as Dean tried to brush off the subject and Cas pressed him to talk. They had been at it for over twenty minutes already. Anytime Sam tried to interject he was shot down by dual glares. Eventually, he gave up. Aaron was still valiantly trying, but Sam could see he was close to throwing in the towel, too.

“We don’t have to decide anything today. You just got out of surgery. We don’t even fucking know when we will be going back to the states.”

“Dean, none of that matters. As Sam said, I will be an outpatient long before I will be able to navigate the stairs.”

“Don’t fucking say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Dean huffed and dropped his head into his hands. Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, soothing him.

When Dean’s breathing eased and his body lost some of its tension, Sam decided to rejoin the conversation. “Dean, I know you hate talking about what if’s and want to focus on what you can control right now, but we have to be prepared, just like we did with Mom.”

Dean’s shoulders jerked, but Cas continued his ministrations. “Sweetheart, I am not giving up by agreeing to all this. We are preparing now, so I can concentrate on getting better when we get home.”

Sam watched, mesmerized, as all the tension bled out of his brother’s body. With a sigh of relief, Dean lifted his head and looked at Cas. The love they shared was written all over their faces. Sam found himself releasing his own sigh of relief. _We’re going to be okay_ , he thought before saying, “Does this mean we can talk about this?”

“Yes, Sammy,” Dean answered with his eyes still locked on Cas. “But don’t you think we should talk to Cas’s doctor first.”

“We’ve been briefed, Dean. Charlie’s been briefed by both the doctor here and the ones taking over his care when we get to Kansas City. I talked to her a little bit ago. She has a contractor lined up. They’ll be installing the ramps into the house this week and will begin construction on that small room off the kitchen. If we all agree?” Cas smiled and Dean nodded.

Before they could continue, Dr. Fischer stepped into the room. “Full house.”

“I assume you’ve met everyone,” said Cas.

“Yes, I have.” The doctor smiled as he looked around the small room. “I overheard some of your conversation, and I think I might be able to help. I need to perform a few tests with Castiel, and then we can talk about next steps.”

As Sam and Aaron stepped toward the door, Cas said, “I would like Dean to stay.”

 

It seemed to take forever before Dr. Fischer came to retrieve Sam. Aaron had stepped away to take a call, so Sam followed the doctor into the room alone. The sight before him tore at his heart. Both Cas and Dean’s eyes were red-rimmed, and they were clinging to each other’s hand. His own face must have fell at the sight because Cas gave him a tentative smile. “It’s not all bad news, Sam.”

Dr. Fischer nodded his agreement and ushered Sam further into the room. “As you know, Cas has suffered a spinal injury. The shrapnel posed a larger issue than first thought. The small piece which was not originally removed shifted during flight and caused further damage. When Cas was in Sana’a he had some feeling in his lower limbs, but that is no longer the case. However, we do not, at this time, know the exact cause or whether he has suffered permanent damage. Nothing can be further assessed until the swelling goes down and we can get new scans taken. As far as his other injuries, the burns, except for his hand, were properly cared for once he reached the hospital in Sana’a. Unfortunately, the lack of supplies at the aid hospital meant some of his burns were not positioned or splinted properly. As a result, contracture occurred. His hand was the most effected by this. We spent some extra time in surgery splinting the hand. It is a work in progress, but with hard work I believe Castiel will heal with almost full-motion in that hand.” The doctor paused, looking each man in the eye before he asked, “Any questions at this point?”

Sam glanced at Cas and the odd position of his body. “I was reading about the need to elevate the affected limbs, but I was wondering how that works with Cas’s spinal injury.”

Dean laughed. “Doc, I told you he was reading everything he could get his hands on.”

With a slight grin, Dr. Fischer addressed Sam. “The positioning requires greater care. During his transport, they had to focus on his spinal injury and therefore his limbs developed some edema. That swelling should dissipate now that he is properly positioned and will begin the process of passive movement. It is important to maintain as much of Castiel’s range of movement we can while he is immobilized, so we will be manipulating his limbs for him. To my knowledge, Cas has not been awake during debridement up to this point.” The doctor faced Cas. “Have you?”

“No, I haven’t, but the procedure was explained to me.”

“The process is painful and proper pain management is essential as is the management of your mental health. I have spoken with the head of your medical team at Grossman Burn Center and they have a team ready for you. It will include a psychologist and a social worker.”

A collective, “What,” erupted from the three young men.

The doctor held up his hands placatingly. “Burn teams are comprehensive and are dedicated to both the patient and their families. When I met with Sam and Dean after your surgery, I learned that there is only the three of you and that Sam attends college far from home. Dean will need support during your recovery. And Cas, you will need the support of a full team. The comprehensive approach leads to quicker recovery and better long-term results. With the addition of your spinal injury, the support of a psychologist is essential.”

“What exactly is a full team?” asked Dean.

“Surgeons, nurses, anesthesiologists, respiratory therapists, occupational and physical therapists, a dietician, and the aforementioned psychologist and social worker.”

The list was a bit daunting, but Sam got stuck on the first one on the list. “You said surgeons, as in more than one.”

“Yes, Cas will require a burn surgeon, a neurosurgeon, and possibly others, such as an orthopedic surgeon.”

It was as if all the energy bled from the room. Cas closed his eyes, and Dean slumped in his chair. Sam felt weighted down and exhausted. Dr. Fischer must have sensed the mood because he said, “I know it’s a lot of information in a short period of time. I will be back to check on you before my shift ends. If you think of any more questions, we will discuss it then.”

After the doctor was gone and the door closed, Dean said, "Jesus, how are we going to pay for all of that?”

“Dean, after everything that happened with your mother, I would never allow us to be in that position again. I bought all three of us the best policy we could afford.”

Even though Cas had answered Dean’s question, it got Sam thinking. “What about all the transports?”

“I don’t know,” said Cas, with his familiar head tilt. “Maybe Aaron can answer that one, but not until later. I am exhausted and both of you look like you could use a good rest. Why don’t you go back to your hotel?”

“I am not leaving you alone.” Dean’s voice cracked with barely contained desperation.

Sam knew there was no point in arguing with Dean. He would not allow Cas to be left alone. “We won’t,” said Sam. “We will take shifts. I can get the first one.”


	24. Pain Comes for Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos, and 'Welcome' to those of you who have recently subscribed. Just a quick warning. There are some detailed descriptions of procedures Cas endures during this chapter. Specifically debridement. You can find details on that procedure in the endnotes.

Night had settled over the hospital as best it could. The intermittent flurry of activity in his room, the light streaming in the doorway, and the filtered light in the room made sleep difficult even with the constant exhaustion Cas felt. Dean was sleeping in the chair he had pushed up next to the bed so his hand could rest on Cas’s arm. It was comforting to have his touch yet disappointing in a way. The warmth of his skin was muted by the glove Dean wore. It had bothered Cas since the moment Dean had stormed in his room and demanded Cas accept his support. Seeing Dean covered head to toe in hospital gear reminded Cas of his injuries, specifically the burns covering the left-side of his body. Everyone who entered his room was required to wear personal protective equipment which consisted of shoe covers, a gown, a mask, and gloves. The mask was the hardest to accept. It meant Cas had to rely on the look in Dean’s eyes to gauge his mood. They were expressive at times but guarded at others. The set of his jaw and lips, however, had always given him away. Cas missed seeing his smile the most, but he also missed the pinched lips and frowns Dean struggled to hide.

Sam’s coverings did not affect Cas the same, partly because his expressive body language revealed his demeanor. Cas didn’t remember Sam being so transparent in their daily lives, but here he bounced with exuberance, fidgeted with nerves, and often tensed with fear. In quiet moments, Cas let his mind wander through the myriad of reactions he observed from both Dean and Sam. It was in those moments, he came to understand that he wanted to know Sam’s feelings, but with Dean it was more than want, it was need. Cas had never been needy, but trapped in the hospital bed he felt himself lose control over his emotions at times, leaving him desperate and anxious. Dean’s touch helped calm those feelings but could not assuage them fully, not like Dean’s expression would. Not seeing Dean's smile, the one that could light up any room, left an ache in Cas’s chest.

There was a darkness settling over Cas the more he let his mind focus on the issue. He knew that path was dangerous for him, so he pushed himself to find a new topic. The one slamming into his mind was not much better, but at least it offered possible solutions. His mother and her insistence to be involved weighed on all of them. So far, Dean and Aaron had been able to deflect her, but once he returned to the states all bets were off. She was wealthy, powerful, and supported by a dedicated staff. Several ideas had floated through his mind as soon as he learned of her attempts. The one which kept sliding to the forefront made him uncomfortable, but it also made sense. Control was what he needed, and it would offer him the most. He knew Dean would balk at the suggestion, as was his usual reaction to Cas’s career. As he filtered through the pros and cons, the decision became easy, almost necessary to a certain extent. The heaviness of his thoughts increased his exhaustion, and he felt his eyes slowly close. Sleep edged in and his body finally relaxed.

_The smell was the first thing to hit, followed by the heat, and then the screams. The wretched sound made Cas cower and cover his ears, but it could not be drowned out. It grew louder and louder until Cas found himself adding his own screams._ Hands on his body jolted him, but it was the tender voice which pulled him out of the nightmare. “Cas, are you with me?”

“Yes.” His voice came out gritty and broken, choked out through ragged breaths. There was pain radiating through his throat and his chest.

“Shh. Shh. Don’t try to talk.”  

A straw touched his lips and he swallowed greedily. When the scratchiness in his throat eased, he shifted his head back, looking up at Dean.

“That was a bad one.”

Cas tipped his head forward in agreement.

“You were screaming and thrashing. I guess it’s a good thing they have you so trussed up,” stated Dean as he rubbed soothing circles on Cas’s shoulder.

“The fire was all around me, but it was the screams. I couldn’t get away from them.”

Dean lowered his head, resting their foreheads together. “I’m sorry. I wish I could crawl in the bed and hold you.” He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping. “And kiss it better.”

Cas quirked his lips and raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Do you want to be scolded again?”

“Come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Dean, the nursing staff, the doctor, Sam, and even Aaron laid into you for taking off your mask.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t take off my mask. I only lowered it, and I didn’t kiss you on the mouth.”

“Are you really trying to defend yourself with a technicality?”

For a brief moment, Cas thought Dean was going to come back with a snarky comment, but it was not to be. Dean lowered his head, unmistakably dejected and guilt-ridden. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have endangered you like that.” He lifted his head, eyes shining with tears. “I would’ve never forgiven myself if I caused you to develop an infection.” He dropped back into his chair, putting distance between them.

Cas wished he could reach out and touch him, but even if he tried, he would not reach him. “Please come closer.” Dean didn’t hesitate to comply, inching up to the bed and placing his hand near Cas, but short of touching him. Cas closed the remaining distance between them, covering Dean’s hand with his. “Sweetheart, we both needed that connection and nothing bad happened. I don’t regret it in the slightest. On the contrary, I cherish it.”

“God, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dean.”

A sob tore out of Dean and tears spilled down his face, wetting his mask. “You…you said it.”

The words surprised Cas until he stopped to think. _He said it to me. Had I really not said it back? Did I not tell him?_ “Dean, I’m sorry. You must -”

“Cas, stop. It’s okay. I knew. Even if you never said the words, I would know. Your beautiful blues eyes looking at me…they tell the whole story.”

“Oh,” muttered Cas, adding, “I’m glad,” with a shy smile.

“Fuck, that smile makes me want to kiss the breath right out of you.”

“And I want to kiss your tears away.”

Dean turned his hand over, holding Cas’s hand in a firm grip. “The second this mask can come off I am going to kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed. Tender and slow, and with all the passion and love I feel for you.”

“Something to look forward to,” whispered Cas, squeezing Dean’s hand.

Their eyes locked on each other, and Cas could finally see the smile in Dean’s eyes. “We have a lot to look forward to, but right now we should rest.”

“All right,” Cas said as he closed his eyes and pictured Dean’s smile. The darkness of his thoughts and his nightmare dissipated with the light of Dean’s presence.

 

Staring at nothing in particular, Cas fought down the urge to scream. Instead, he raged against the injustice of it all. He swore and spat out words of disgust and frustration, hoping somehow it would ease the pain. It didn’t, but it provided an outlet for that pain. His nurse kept a steady expression and a measured tone, appearing unaffected by Cas’s vitriol. It appeared he had heard it all before. Cas wondered how long a person had to be exposed to it before they stopped reacting. The thought opened up a whole new line of complaint. “Are you even human? Who can do this to another person with that look on your face? What is that serenity? Do you enjoy torturing people?”

The nurse raised his head from his ministrations for the briefest of seconds. His face betrayed nothing, but there was a flash of what appeared to be compassion in his eyes. The look only irritated Cas more, but before he could snap about stowing the pity, his nurse said, “The reason I do this job and do it calmly is because I respect the burns and the process required to heal them, including debridement.” As he spoke, the nurse continued working, and for the first time, Cas watched with curiosity instead of anger. He rubbed the fluff across the wounds, sloughing off the dead tissue. Even though Cas had been warned about debridement and the procedures it entailed, nothing could prepare a person for the excruciating pain. The methadone he was given never fully dulled the pain he suffered constantly, but it didn’t even put a dent in the pain of having open burn wounds scrubbed. The shower which started the process was difficult enough, but the damn, poorly named, fluff quickly became the enemy, a necessary one. Cas saw the results with his own eyes. He thought maybe it would help him accept the torture, but when the nurse shifted to his hand, the most severely burned place on his body, all coherent thoughts fled.

_Just let me die_ , he thought. _Make it stop_. Cas had not realized he spoke the last phrase aloud until the nurse said, “I’m almost done. This is the last area.” Cas couldn’t muster the energy to say anything else. Gritting his teeth against the onslaught of pain, it raged for what felt like hours. It ended without any fanfare. He was left alone in his room as his body dried, staring at the ceiling with nothing to occupy his mind. Dr. Fischer entered the room, breaking through the monotony. He assessed the wounds, after which the nurse applied some cream. Cas couldn’t remember the specifics of the cream, but he thought it had something to do with preventing infection. Before he had even finished thinking about the cream, the nurse was redressing his wounds. The process was finally finished, and Cas breathed a sigh of relief. A knowing look between the doctor and the nurse had him frowning instantaneously.

“What?” he asked gruffly.

“Relax now, but don’t get too comfortable. You still have morning PT.” The sigh Cas emitted this time was most definitely not one of relief. “If it helps, Dean is donning his gear as we speak. Keeping him away is almost impossible.”

“I’m not surprised in the least. He is stubborn.”

The nurse’s eyes clouded slightly. “It may not have worked in his favor this time. He snuck around until he was within hearing shot of the shower room.”

“Fuck,” Cas said as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back.

“My thoughts exactly,” responded the nurse.

It was at that moment Cas remembered the man’s name. Calling him nurse, even in his own head, suddenly seemed so impersonal after everything they shared that morning. “Oskar, you better send him in.  Fast.”

Without another word, Oskar left the room. Dr. Fischer’s gaze returned to Cas. “From my understanding, the team from Grossman will be flying out at some point today or tomorrow. I will return this af-” The rest of the doctor’s statement was drowned out by the sound of Dean bursting through the door.

“Cas, are you okay? Oskar said you’re fine, but that…you didn’t sound fine,” he said as he barreled toward the bed.

“I’m fine,” Cas affirmed in the steadiest voice he could muster.   Even with the mask Dean wore, Cas could see the paleness of his face and for once his eyes were a dead giveaway. Filled with panic, they scanned Cas’s body before making eye contact. Holding Dean’s gaze, Cas smiled through his pain needing to reassure the man he loved. “Dean, come sit and take a breath for me.” Once Dean was seated, Cas took his hand. “I’m much better now that you’re here.”

“I’ve never heard someone wail like that and then you started yelling. I wanted to break the fucking door down.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear it, but you did kind of do it to yourself. If you had listened to Oskar...”

Dean blushed as he quirked one lip up. “I know, but I hate being apart from you.”

“The feeling is mutual, but as awful as the procedure was, it was necessary. I knew it going in, but after the first swipe I decided I didn’t give a rat’s ass about necessity. I just wanted it to stop.”

“But it won’t.”

Cas sighed and dropped his gaze. “No, it won’t. It is something I will have to learn to endure.”

A whine from Dean made Cas look up. “Cas, you said something about wanting to die. I…you didn’t…you don’t…”

Thinking back on the morning, Cas remembered thinking about death, wishing for it on several occasions. But they were meant to be just thoughts left unspoken. “Um…I didn’t realize I said that out loud. It was a fleeting thought borne out of pain. I don’t want to die. I just got you.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

Cas knew he shouldn’t continue this line of conversation because he could already feel darkness seeping back into his consciousness. He wanted to weave his way to a new topic, but instead he bluntly said, “We need to discuss my mother.”

Dean looked taken aback by the abrupt shift, but he quickly recovered. “Don’t worry about her Cas. I can handle it. She will not get near you or your care.”

“I know you are very capable, but you haven’t seen anything yet. Once we are back in Kansas, her gloves will come off, but I have an idea to circumvent her plans. It’s not one you are going to like, at least at face value, but let me explain my reasons before you make a snap judgement.”

“All right,” Dean responded hesitantly, dragging out the words.

Ripping off the band-aid, Cas said, “I want to document my recovery. Photograph and film each stage, all the procedures and rehab. I don’t want to hide, but I don’t want my mother’s propaganda machine to tell the story. We just need to sign on with a producer, and she won't be able to say or do anything about it.  This is my story, our story, and we should be the ones to tell it. Besides, this is my work. I ask others to share their lives with me, to let me photograph them, so I can tell the stories of poverty, protest, and war. I should be willing to do the same.”

Dean shook his head. “You don’t owe anyone anything, Cas.”

“It’s not about owing, Dean. It’s about helping others learn. I know you understand the power of teaching, imparting knowledge.  It is essential in helping others understand the greater world.” Cas thought it would take a lot more convincing, but he saw a flash of irritation followed by understanding and acceptance in Dean’s eyes.

“I hate when you logic me.”

“No, you don’t.”

Scoffing, Dean said, “You suck.”

“I plan to.” Cas caught a glimpse of red above Dean’s mask.

Dean whimpered, “Cas.”

“You’re breathtaking when you blush.”

“Holy fuck.”

“I plan to do that to.”

Dean covered his eyes, embarrassment radiating off of him, but his words told a different story. “I missed that. I remember the day you stopped doing that.”

“You mean the innuendos.”

Lowering his hands, Dean nodded. “It was my fault. I couldn’t understand why I felt so uncomfortable when you did it. If Benny or Aaron or even Charlie did it, I would laugh and joke back. But with you, it made be squirm.” He chuckled. “Kind of a moron for not figuring that one out.”

“Yes, well, I could have said something.”

“I’m not sure if I would have been ready to hear it then.” Dean stopped and took a deep breath. “Wow, this honesty thing sort of has a will of its own.”

The pain in Cas’s body eased as warmth suffused his chest. Knowing Dean was willing to openly share his thoughts and feelings brought Cas joy and a sense of calm. “If we can stay honest, I think we can survive this.”

“And come out stronger,” Dean said forcefully.

The sound of the door opening drew their attention. Sam’s lumbering body ducked into the room. “Good morning, Cas.”

“Good morning to you, too, Sam. I’m glad you’re here. I have a job for you.”

 

Two hours later, Sam was back in the room, uncertainty still clouding his eyes. Cas had been shocked that convincing Sam of his plan was much harder than convincing Dean. In the end, the younger Winchester had relented, leaving with a list of equipment to procure. While he was gone, Aaron had arrived and been put to work. Along with Dean, he consulted with the medical team on the nature of the documentary and the precautions which needed to be taken. Instructions in hand, Sam and Aaron had prepared the equipment and had it inspected, only then were they allowed in the room.

Hanna, the physical therapist, arrived a few minutes before they entered. She had been informed of the filming and had agreed to the process. Her only request was to limit the number of people in the room. Without hesitation, Sam handed the camera to Dean saying, "It's all set to Cas's specifications," before following Aaron out of the room. Before the door was even closed, Hanna started explaining her intentions to Cas.

Nervously holding the camera, Dean said, “I feel foolish doing this, but…uh…Hanna could you start over.”

Hanna frowned at Cas before turning around. Dean smiled sheepishly at her and shrugged his shoulders. When she returned her attention to Cas, her lips were curved up in the tiniest of smiles. “Ready?” she asked, hesitating for only a few seconds before launching into her explanation for the second time. “Castiel, the purpose of today is what we term passive movement. This helps you maintain muscle tone and range of motion. I will be manipulating your body, stretching your muscles and working your joints. Because active movement is limited in your upper body and non-existent in your lower body, we must do the work for you.”

“That’s harsh,” muttered Dean under his breath.

Despite Dean’s effort to speak quietly, Cas heard it, and he assumed Hanna did as well when her head snapped around to face Dean. “Dean, she is only doing what I requested. I want the unvarnished truth.”

Shifting Cas’s right leg into a partial knee bend, Hanna said, “And I believe it is for the best. Patients perform better when they understand their limitations and their goals, no matter how small they can be at the start.” The process was slow and methodical, almost rhythmic, but it was also frustrating and jarring at times. When she shifted between limbs, Cas felt his heartrate increase. The shift highlighted his inability to feel his legs, leaving him feeling angry and conflicted.

His irritation grew the more she worked on his upper body until it finally boiled over. “I am perfectly capable of moving my right arm,” he snapped trying to pry his arm from her grip. When she didn’t let him go, he added, “Dammit, just let me do it.” Movement from the corner of the room caught his attention. Dean was stepping back and lowering the camera. “Dean, keep filming.” When he didn’t immediately raise the camera, Cas added, “Film it all. We tell the truth, or we don’t tell any of it.” Cas watched as Dean hesitantly lifted the camera. Cas merely tipped his head to the side to get Dean to start recording again. The distraction had eased some of Cas’s frustration, but he was still not an ideal patient. He didn’t try to hinder the process again, but he groused and groaned and sighed dramatically. As Hanna finished up, he wondered what he would think of himself when he watched the footage. Because even if he was the one demanding to tell the whole story, he knew the truth was often humbling.

His musings were halted when Dr. Fischer entered the room. “Good news, Castiel. The team from Grossman will be here in the morning. They will assess your wounds and your spinal injury and at that time make a final decision about your transport. If all goes well, which I believe it will, you will be cleared to fly home.”

“I thought doctors never assumed anything,” Dean said, head still firmly behind the camera.

Dr. Fischer laughed before saying, “True. But when you’ve been doing this as long as I have, sometimes you just know.” He turned back to face the bed. “Do you have any questions, Castiel?”

“Just one. Is there any way I can kiss my boyfriend?”

“Not you, too,” Dr. Fischer said, shaking his head before adding, “Feel free to kiss as long as that mask stays in place and stays dry.”

“I can work with that,” smirked Cas as he gestured for Dean to come closer.

“On that note, I will see you two tomorrow.”

Cas waved his hand at the doctor as he left, while keeping his eyes fixed on Dean. “Put the camera down and come here, Dean.” Cas directed Dean until he was pressed up against the bed, leaning forward. Their heads were only inches apart when Cas ran his hand along the top of Dean’s back. Keeping his hand on the gown, Cas pulled Dean down and kissed him firmly on his masked mouth. Resting their foreheads together, Cas whispered, “When that mask comes off, I am going to be the one to kiss you, and I will keep kissing you until we are both gasping and achingly hard. Do you want that, sweetheart?”

Dean’s eyes slipped closed, and he inhaled sharply. “Want you, Cas. Always.”

“Always,” Cas repeated as he let his own eyes slowly close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In chapter 23, in my final edit, somehow I deleted the section on the need for visitors to be gowned, gloved, and masked, so in that chapter it wasn't obvious Dean had broken protocol. Well, after this chapter, now you know he did, but he won't be doing it again.
> 
> One other note, I spelled Hanna that way since it is a common in Germany. 
> 
> As for debridement, there are several ways they deal with necrotic or dead tissue - surgical, chemical, mechanical, and autolytic. Patients may have surgical for certain wounds and another type for other wounds. The kind I wrote about is mechanical debridement. From the patient accounts I read it is extremely painful and demoralizing, but also necessary because dead tissue is a breeding ground for bacteria. Depression and suicidal thoughts are not uncommon among burn patients for a variety of reasons, constant and intense pain being a major factor.


	25. Dean, Charlie, and the Road Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long but I had to figure out how to fit a lot of content and make a big transition in one chapter. It's longer than normal and introduces some new characters. Hope you enjoy it!

The steam filled the tight space around him. He wanted to blame it for the inability to catch his breath, but he knew better. His body supplied him with another shudder just to drive the point home. Salty tears mixed with the warm water sluicing down his face, and Dean could no longer deny the sobs desperate to escape. He let them tear out of his body as he dropped to the ground. Pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping them in a tight embrace, Dean released all the buried emotions from the past days. He raged and cried, banging his head against the wall repeatedly. After several agonizing minutes, his entire body slumped with exhaustion. His tears had dried up, even as his body continued to tremble with the aftershocks of his sobs. Clamoring to his feet, he shut off the water and reached for a towel.

He slowly dried his body, noting the aches and pains he had gained from sitting on the hard floor of a shower in a cramped position for God knows how long.   They added to the pains in his neck and shoulders from sleeping in the chair by Cas’s bed. Rubbing the sorest spots, Dean kept his eyes firmly away from the mirror in the room. He didn’t need to see his face to know what a wreck he was. His face felt puffy and his eyes burned. Feeling it was enough. He escaped the bathroom with the towel slung low around his hips. As he reached for his bag, the computer trilled with an incoming video call. “Fuck,” he said as he dropped down on the bed and buried his head in his hands. He knew who it was, and he didn’t want her to see him all cried out. Trying to ignore the call, he pulled out some clean clothes and began to dress. Before he managed to pull on his boxers, his phone was ringing. The process went on with each new piece of clothing. It went from video calls, to phone calls, to texts and back again.

As he pulled on his socks, the computer trilled for the third time. Dean ran his hands down his face, plastering on a smile when he finally relented and accepted the call. Charlie’s angry face greeted him, but she bit back whatever retort she had prepared. Dean could see it all clearly, from the swallowed words, to the softening of her expression, to the pity rapidly replacing anger in her eyes. “Don’t,” he warned. He didn’t want to talk about it, and he certainly didn’t want sympathy. But this was Charlie and he should have known his warning would be ignored.

“Dean, did something happen?” she asked carefully, quietly, but laced with so much fear, Dean reeled back.

It wasn’t sympathy or pity he had seen in her face. Charlie was scared. _Projecting much_ , Dean thought to himself before he checked his own baggage and sought to comfort Charlie. “No, no. Nothing happened.” Her expression didn’t change. “I mean it, Charlie. Cas is fine. Well, as fine as someone can be in his position.” Dean ran his hand through his damp hair. “I mean at times he’s pissed off and acting like a disgruntled puppy. At others he’s fucking…God, the only way to describe it is sad. But then, he’s just Cas. Cool and collected, head strong and determined.”

“And you? How are you?” Charlie asked with concern, but without the layer of fear.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Dammit, Charlie. You accepted what I said about Cas easy enough. Why can’t you do the same for me?”

The redhead laughed, full and deep. “Because you idiot, you would never lie about how Cas is doing, but you would lie at every turn about how you are. You and my best friend share that, oh so endearing, quality.” The sarcasm in her statement explained exactly how she felt about that quirk of Cas and Dean’s personalities. “Besides, you look like shit, so there’s that.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean scowled, or at least that was what he attempted. “You could have just led with that and left out the part where you called me a liar.” He knew he had failed in his attempt when Charlie merely chuckled. “All right, all right, knock it off. I assume you didn’t call to harass me.”

“No, I called to give you some good news, but first tell me what’s going on with you.”

Dean took a deep breath. “I’m just tired Charlie and when I get this level of tired and I’m alone, I can’t…I can’t hold it back anymore. Ya know. I had to let it out.”

“I get it.” Dean must have looked skeptical because she added, “I really do get it. Sometimes I find myself crying over a commercial or some other ridiculous thing, and all the pent-up emotions I carry burst out and I’m crying for a whole other reason.”

Nodding, Dean said, “Yeah, I suppose you do get it. Thanks, Charlie.” She simply grinned in response.

Dean welcomed the change of subject when she suddenly said, “So, the reason I called was to let you know that Donna is the social worker assigned to your team. She will be there in the morning with the rest of the gang.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup, and I think you have Bobby to thank for it. I’m sure the old man told her about Cas. And once she knew there was no way she wouldn’t be involved.”

“But…”

“But what, Dean? This is Donna. This is her job. It’s what she does.”

There really was no good argument Dean could make, and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to anyway. Knowing Donna was coming, that she would be their social worker, made him feel calm for the first time since he learned about the massive team required for Cas’s care. Dean had met Donna while working at Bobby’s and had taken an instant liking to her bright personality. It was funny how Bobby, a crusty, curmudgeon, seemed to end up surrounded by bubbly, cheerful people. Garth and Donna the most notable of the bunch, but not the only ones by far. Bobby’s entire operation was filled with people who exuded sunshine and happiness, from the permanent staff to the volunteers. And despite his gruff exterior and frequent use of the term idjit, especially when it came to his trainer, Garth, it was easy to see how much the old man enjoyed their company. It helped that on the days Donna volunteered she always brought a treat of some sort. Donna had been around Bobby long enough to know he was an old softie if you plied him with a little sugar. For ten years, Donna had been coordinating a program to bring kids to Bobby’s animal rehabilitation center. And these were just not any kids, they were the ones Donna met through her career at the hospital. Kids with chronic, life-threatening, and more often than not terminal illnesses. That thought presented an argument Dean could not ignore. “Her work is with kids.”

“Now, but ten years ago it was with soldiers and their families. Traumatic brain injury and paralysis. With her stellar career, how could they deny her request, especially when the son of a senator is involved.”

“Fuck, she didn’t use that, did she?”

“She didn’t have to. Cas’s story is all over the news back here.”

Tension radiated through Dean’s body. “Fuck. Charlie, we have to do something about the media.”

Charlie glared at Dean before giving him a cheeky smile. “Come on. Give me a little credit. I got the production company to get Senator Novak and her team to back off, and I can easily circumvent a few reporters and paparazzi.”

Hold up his hands placatingly, Dean said, “Okay, I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”

“Good.” A quizzical look settled on her face. “Why are you dressed in that? Dean, you are supposed to be resting.”

“What the hell? Sam needs to mind his own business.”

“It wasn’t Sam. Cas ratted you out.”

“So, this call was…”

Charlie shrugged, refusing to fill in the blank. “I’ll see you when you get to KC. And I know what you and Aaron were trying to do, but I am coming to the hospital. Cas is my family. Seeing him is more important than my hang-ups.” She ended the chat before Dean could respond.

 

Dean bolted upright, disoriented and drenched in sweat. The last thing he remembered was closing his laptop and rubbing his eyes. As he took in his surroundings, he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw light streaming in the window. He stumbled to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. When he felt like he could function again, he walked back into the main room and picked up his cell phone which he promptly dropped. “Dammit,” he snapped even as searched for his shoes and called Sam. “Why didn’t you call me?” he yelled before Sam could say hello.

“Good morning to you, too, Dean. And in answer to your question, you needed sleep. Before you argue, Cas agreed with me. In fact, he was the one to demand that no one disturb you.”

“That is so…why the –”

Cutting him off, Sam said, “Get yourself some food and then come to the hospital. The team should be here in an hour,” and then promptly hung up.

“What the fuck is with everyone hanging up on me?” he grumbled under his breath as he finished tying his shoes. He kept up the complaints as he gathered his things and ducked out of the room. The strange look he got from the woman in the hall didn’t phase him one bit or hinder his muttering, only stopping once he entered the elevator.

The trip to the hospital was quick, and he found himself in Cas’s room with two people frowning at him. “You didn’t stop for food,” Cas stated, leaving no room for argument. “Go eat.”

Sam’s big hands were on his biceps, turning him toward the door. “Let go, Sam.”

“No. Cas gave you an order.”

“Since when does Cas give me orders.” Dean shoved Sam away. “I already went through the work of getting all this gear on, I’m not leaving now. I can eat later.” Stepping around Sam, Dean caught Cas’s eye and held the contact, imploring him to understand.

Two words from Cas, and Dean knew he had been heard.  “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.” Dean trotted over to the bed, taking the hand Cas held out to him. “How are you?”

“Better now. The morning was rough. Tests and scans and…” Cas shuddered, stopping his statement.

Dean squeezed his hand lightly. “Shh…you don’t have to say anything.” Without turning, he addressed his brother. “What’s the latest word, Sammy?”

“Dr. Fischer cleared him for release. Once the transport team arrives, it should be quick. All his stats are good, and the swelling has decreased. Which means I should get back to the hotel and pack? Our flight leaves soon.”

Still holding Cas hand, Dean wrenched his head around to glare at Sam. “What do you mean our flight? We’re going with Cas.” Dean’s entire body lit up with the mere thought of leaving Cas.

Just as Sam went to speak, Cas’s deep voice filled the room. “Dean, you and Sam are flying home commercially. Going with me is not an option.”

“But I don’t want to leave you,” whispered Dean, almost painfully.

“And I don’t want to leave you, but we don’t have a choice.” Cas smiled as he added, “It won’t even be a full day until we'll be together again.”

The thought of hours apart ate at Dean, fueling his anxiety and stinging his eyes with tears. He closed his eyes and willed them away, calming himself with a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he saw a pinched expression on Cas’s face, worry clouding his eyes. Guilt overcame any anxiety Dean felt. He was supposed to be the strong one, supporting Cas, comforting Cas, not the other way around. Shaking himself out of his funk, bolstering himself, he sat up straight and smiled. “You’ll miss me before you even get off the ground,” he quipped, adding a cheeky wink.

“Oh, you think highly of yourself, Mr. Winchester.”

“That I do.” Dean chuckled and watched in awe as Cas’s face cracked a huge grin. His eyes gleamed with mirth and something much grander, love. It took Dean’s breath away to realize how easily Cas shared that particular emotion with him now. Dean hoped he did the same for Cas, but just to be sure, he said, “I love you.”

“You two are disgustingly sweet,” whined Sam.

“You’re just jealous, Sammy,” remarked Dean as he turned. The serious look on Sam’s face surprised him, and Dean froze, forgetting the other teasing retort on his lips.

Sam shook his head. “No, that is the furthest thing from what I am. You two, being like this, it’s a gift. I don’t want you to ever think I'm not happy for you. For both of you.” Tears slid down Sam’s cheeks, he swiped them away, even as his cheeks darkened. “Even though I complained, a lot, you two have essentially been my parents, so this feels like our family finally makes sense.” Sam shook his head and frowned. “That sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Dean said. “I feel the same. It feels whole for the first time since Mom died.” The sharp intake of breath to Dean’s right drew his attention. “Cas, it’s true.” Cas nodded, eyes still wide with shock.

“Okay, on that note, I’m going to pack," Sam said.  "Text me when they get here.”

“I will,” agreed Dean before he turned his attention back to Cas. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”

Cas shook his head and gripped Dean’s hand harder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted you to rest, and Sam was here. He seemed to enjoy filming.”

They fell into a light banter after that both avoiding heavy topics until Dean brought up his chat with Charlie. That discussion shifted into funny stories about Charlie and then Donna. Dean’s story about Donna and a dachshund was interrupted by the woman herself. “Good morning, fellas.”

“Donna, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“You too, Dean, and you,” she said pointing at Cas, “I don’t ever want to get a phone call like that from Bobby ever again. Hearing panic in that grumpy man’s voice…I tell you I was not prepared for that.” Without taking a breath, she changed the subject, launching into the morning’s plan. “Dr. Bevell is meeting with Dr. Fischer as we speak. Going over your results. She is…well, let’s just say, she doesn’t waste time. There won’t be any hemming and hawing. Once she makes her decision, we will be moving, rapidly.”

With those words, Dean yanked his phone from his pocket to text Sam. “Sorry, just needed to text Sam. So, Dr. Bevell, who is she.”

“She’s the head of the burn unit at Grossman and the one in charge of Cas’s care. Normally, she wouldn’t be here for transport, but Cas being who he is gets the VIP treatment.” Cas inhaled, sighing heavily on the exhale. “Oh, now, having fans is not as bad as all that,” chuckled Donna.

“This isn’t about my mother?”

“No sirree, this is all you. Dr. Bevell is a huge fan of your work. She’s the reason your documentary got approved. The hospital lawyers were firmly against it, but she worked her superpowers and got the green light. Speaking of your documentary, I was expecting cameras.”

Dean sat back and listened as Cas responded, detailing the morning’s filming. It pained Dean to hear Cas describe his taxing morning, and how Sam, still a kid in Dean’s eyes, had to witness it all and then make the executive decision, over Cas’s protests, to put the camera away. “He was right to stop,” Cas said. “I was not in a good place, and it was becoming detrimental.”

“It’s good to hear you admit that. Part of my job is to make sure all of you learn to face your feelings and not be afraid to acknowledge your limitations and boundaries. And, just so there is no doubt, I WILL pull the plug on your film, if I see it is negatively impacting your recovery.” The hard edge to Donna’s voice brooked no argument, and Dean found himself nodding, as Cas vocally agreed. “Great, glad we got that out of the way," said Donna.  "Now, let me catch you up on a few things back home while we wait.”

 

Everything was frenetic after Sam arrived, the medical team right behind him. Dean felt lost in the chaos but refused to let Cas see his discomposure. Through concentration and some helpful looks and whispered words from Donna, he managed to hold it together even when it was time to say goodbye. It wasn’t easy and brought up a pretty horrific memory of their last goodbye. “I’m gonna stay on my feet this time.  No falling to my knees,” Dean whispered to Cas, once they were alone in the room.

“And no drinking,” pleaded Cas.

“Yeah, Cas, no drinking. Sam pushed me to get a prescription for my anxiety, so I don’t need to get hammered to handle flying.” Cas’s eyebrows shut up and his mouthed dropped open slightly. “No need to look so shocked. I promised you I would lay off the liquor, and my phobia doesn’t negate that.”

The expression on Cas’s face softened, and his lips quirked up in a barely-there smile. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean pressed his forehead to Cas’s and closed his eyes. “Love you, too. I’ll see you in Kansas.” When he opened his eyes, he held Cas’s gaze one last time before turning around and exiting the room. He didn’t look back, and he didn’t stop until he was out of his gear, out of the hospital, and back in his hotel room. He registered another presence in the room but didn’t acknowledge it until there was a knock on the door. “Sammy, get the door.”

“Ready to go?” asked Aaron as he stepped into the room.

“Didn’t think you were going with us,” said Dean with his head bowed and his hands clasped in his lap.

“I’m only taking you to the train. I’ll be here until Cas is in the air.”

Dean raised his head to look at Aaron. It was the first time he had really stopped to think about all their friend had done for them over the last few days and all he was still doing. “Thanks, man. I mean it. Thanks for everything you’re doing.”

“You can repay me by taking care of him and yourselves, and by calling me if you need anything. Just because I have to go back to Washington doesn’t mean I’m checking out.”

Pulling Aaron into a one-armed hug, Sam said, “I promise we’ll take care of him, and if we need anything, we’ll call.” With that Dean stood, grabbed his bag and the camera equipment, and gestured to Sam to follow suit. They were out the door and on their way within minutes. Dean tried to stay relaxed on the drive, on the train, and as they sat waiting in the airport. His nerves only spiked when it was time to board the plane, but he knew from recent experience it would dissipate once they were in the air. His medicine seemed to have that effect, especially when he was already bone tired. This time was no exception. He drifted into sleep and didn’t wake until they landed in Detroit to change planes. His nerves kicked back in and remained steady through the next flight. Sam tried to distract him, but Dean couldn’t focus enough to participate in any conversation. The tension finally eased when they arrived in the baggage claim and his arms wrapped around Charlie. She buried her face in his chest and cried as he ran his hand through her hair. They didn’t exchange any pleasantries or try to fill the space with forced words.

He held her until Sam had gathered all their bags, and asked, “Where to?”

Just like that the dam burst and Charlie started to talk, rapid fire and never-ending. It ceased when the pulled up in front of an apartment building near the hospital. “So, this is it. Your home away from home for as long as Cas is at Grossman.” Dean must have made a face because suddenly Charlie said, “You agreed to this.”

“I know.”

“Then what’s with the face?”

“I guess it makes this all the more real. Us living here means Cas will be living at the burn center. For who knows how long.”

Dean felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this.”

Patting Sam’s hand, Dean responded, “Yeah, we will.” He let the seriousness drop away and plastered on a smile. “Okay, show us our new digs, Charlie.”

“The apartments are relatively new and very clean. I think you’ll like it, and the burn center is only a mile away. And let me tell you it’s facilities are amazing, and the staff is awesome.”

Dean grabbed her arm, halting her steps just as she went to open the door to the building. “You went to the hospital?”

“Of course, I did. I had to make sure it was the best. Gabe went with me and used his special brand of humor to keep me from thinking too much.” Sobering, she added, “Really, Dean, I was fine. Besides, I needed to get the fear out before Cas arrives because I need to be here for him and for my own sanity.”

Letting go of her arm, he said, “Believe me, I get it.”

She yanked open the door and walked to the very first door. “Home sweet home,” she said as she swung the door open. “Drop your stuff and take a quick look. We need to get to the hospital because I don’t trust Gabe to be on his own.”

 

Dean could only laugh at how prophetic Charlie had been. After arriving at the hospital they spotted Gabe in a heated discussion with a short dark-haired woman. She seemed to be holding her own, and Sam, Charlie, and Dean, almost in unison, stopped to watch. After several minutes of simply observing, they approached the pair. The woman noticed them first. Her eyes tracked their movements which drew Gabe’s attention, and he flipped around. “Ah, the Winchesters have arrived. Fellas, this is Meg, the thorn in my side.”

The woman shook her head, stepping around Gabriel, ignoring his comment entirely. “Sam, Dean. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Meg Masters and I will be Castiel’s physical therapist. If you’ll follow me, I'll introduce to a few other members of Cas’s team.” Without waiting for agreement, she turned around and walked briskly down the hall. She was surprisingly quick, and it took several long strides for them to catch up to her. When they did, they were brought up short by the sudden appearance of a severe looking woman, hair pulled back tight and shoulders squared, almost military style. “Naomi, how nice of you to join us,” said Meg haughtily.

“Meg, if you are going to argue with someone, you should move it to one of the many offices.”

Meg rolled her eyes, and as she had done with Gabe, ignored the comment. “Sam and Dean let me introduce you to our esteemed psychologist, Naomi Stern.”

Dean tried to cover the laugh which bubbled to the surface at the accuracy of the woman’s last name. For some reason, he managed to hold in the laugh, but couldn’t stop himself from blurting. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Dean,” Sam scolded as Meg chuckled.

“You aren’t the first to say those exact words.” Naomi held out her hand to Dean. As they shook, she added, “I may be stern, but I am also exceptional at my job.”

“I can’t argue with that,” conceded Meg. “Naomi’s first and only priority is to her patients and their families.”

“Thank you, Meg,” Naomi said, minutely tipping her head at Meg. “After Castiel arrives and is situated in his room, Donna and I will meet with you and any family members who want to be present. It is important for us to get on the same page from the very start. I’m sorry I cannot stay and chat, but I have a patient waiting. It was nice to meet you.” She walked away as quickly as she had arrived. Before she was even out of sight, Meg directed them to a small room on their left.

As they entered, they saw a woman seated at a table with a book in one hand and a fork in the other. “Rachel, I want to introduce you to Castiel’s family,” Meg said.  

“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t expecting you until later,” the woman said apologetically as she pushed away her plate of food and stood up.

“There’s no need to apologize.  I’m Dean.  That's Sam, and the short one is Charlie.”

“And I’m Rachel, Castiel’s dietician,” she said, with a slight tinge of pink in her cheeks.

Meg, who had inched her way over to the table to stand next to Rachel, shook her head with a hint of exasperation. “We’ll be on our way, so you can finish whatever that is.”

“It’s a quinoa salad, and you know it, Meg. Nutrition is -”

“Save it for your talk with Castiel,” interrupted Meg. “I won’t be here for the meeting, so I’ll see you at home.” she added as she walked toward the door. Charlie, Sam, and Dean all stared at Meg once they were standing back in the hallway. “What?” she asked. Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “Rachel’s my wife, and she makes me eat all that healthy crap. The least I can do is needle her about it.”

“Makes sense, but what the hell is quinoa?” asked Dean.

“No, no, no. I’ll let Rachel explain all of that. Now, there are several other team members you’ll meet later. Dr. Bevell, the head of the burn unit, and Antonio, a member of our crack nursing team, are with Castiel. And Dr. Banes, the neurosurgeon assigned to Castiel’s team, is currently in an emergency surgery.”

Dean’s head was spinning with names and titles, and he felt a bit disoriented with their swift movements through the unit. He drudged along at the back of the group and was elated when Meg directed them into a quiet sitting room. They all dropped into surprisingly comfortable seating. “I know this is a lot to take in and can be overwhelming. But I want you to know, everyone on this staff will be here for you, whether they are on Castiel’s team or not. If you need anything, never hesitate to ask. Even if it’s just a shoulder to cry on.”

Gabe sat forward in his seat, looming into Meg’s space. “Who are you, and what have you done with Meg?”

“What the fuck, Gabe?” snapped Dean.

“What? She’s being all nice and polite. It’s weird.”

Meg threw her head back and laughed. “Maybe you just bring out the other side in me, Gabe.”

“Oh, he does that with everyone,” said Charlie. “He’s an acquired taste to say the least.”

Gabe furrowed his brow. “Hey,” he said with incredulity before conceding, “she has a point.”

Laughter filled the room, settling Dean’s nerves and helping him relax back into his chair. He let his mind wander while Meg discussed a few other nuts and bolts, figuring Sam or Charlie could fill him in later. His thoughts were filled with images of Cas, running through the years they had shared. A young Cas on his motorcycle free and intriguing. Even though he didn't recognize his attraction to the man until recently, he had always been mesmerized by Cas. By the life he led, by his vast interests, by his dedication to Mary, by his steadfast heart and calming presence. Cas was strength and safety, and Dean realized he had always had faith in him, and that faith had only grown over the years. Love had joined that faith from nearly the beginning. Love of family, friend, and confidante, and now the love of a partner. A love Dean planned to keep for a lifetime. That thought shifted the images in his mind to ones of the future. Their future. Cas accepting his proposal, their wedding day, welcoming their first child into the world, and on and on. Dean thought he should feel apprehension, but it never came. All he felt was how right every image and every step on that path was and how his heart fluttered at the thought of a life with Cas. That flutter remained even as they said their goodbyes to Meg and went in search of food. It remained as they waited for Cas’s arrival, and it grew exponentially when he saw Cas’s messy dark head of hair and shining blue eyes again.


	26. Cas, Dean, and the Burn Unit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this story has officially topped 100,000 words. 
> 
> The emotional journey of recovery begins. Be prepared for some ups and downs.

Cas spotted him standing at the end of the long hallway.  The long line of Dean’s back and the bow of his legs triggering a hitch in his breath.  Someone to Dean’s left spoke to him, and before Cas had time to take a deep breath green eyes found him.  A smile erupted on Dean’s face.  It was beautiful, and so missed that tears sprang to Cas’s eyes.  Knowing Dean’s gorgeous mouth would soon be covered by a mask, Cas basked in the sight, giving Dean an equally big grin.  The distance closed between them until Cas was whisked into an ICU room, his home for the foreseeable future.  Dr. Bevell spared him one last look over her shoulder before she left him in the care of his nurse, Antonio. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll see him soon.”

“What?” asked Cas, still a bit dazed from the travel and the sedative Cas was irked by, but Dr. Bevell had insisted upon. 

“I’m sure Dean is suiting up right now.  I saw the look you two gave each other.”

Picturing Dean, Cas said, “Can you blame me with a smile like that?”

Antonio chuckled.  “Keeping you two in check is going to be my biggest issue, isn’t it?”

Looking at his nurse, Cas’s face grew serious.  “No, Dean learned his lesson.  He’ll behave.”

“And what about you?”

Cas shrugged.  “We’ll see.”  Antonio simply hummed in response as he worked to settle Cas into his new room.  They remained silent for several minutes, only speaking once Antonio had checked Cas’s vitals and recorded the data.

“Everything looks good.  I know you’re tired, and if you feel like you need rest, I can push the team meeting.”  He stopped briefly, giving Cas a questioning look.  “No matter what anyone else says, even Dr. Bevell, I make the final call with the benefit of your input.”

Looking at the earnest expression on Antonio’s face, Cas knew the words were true, and that he had an advocate in the man standing at the foot of his bed, waiting patiently for Cas’s decision.  There was no pressure and no move to convince Cas either way.  For the first time since he threw himself out of the burning vehicle, Cas felt a semblance of control.  It was a heady feeling and desperately welcome.  The choice was a simple one.  “I want it over with as soon as possible.”

“All right, I’ll go inform the others.”

“And send Dean in?” asked Cas, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice.

“Of course,” Antonio said, smiling over his shoulder knowingly.  The reason for that smile was clear when Cas saw Dean’s familiar form outside his door.  “Wow, I work fast,” joked Antonio.

Cas rolled his eyes at his nurse, but quickly shifted his gaze back to Dean.  “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey.  You look like shit.”

“As do you, asshole.”

Dean threw his head back in laughter.  “Missed you,” he said when he stopped chuckling.

“I would say the same, but I was unconscious almost the entire time.”  Cas waited for Dean to respond but wasn’t surprised when he didn’t.  Dean had been in on the discussion about sedation and had, after Dr. Bevell’s detailed list of reasons, agreed with the doctor, much to Cas’s frustration.  There was no reason to rehash it again.  It was over and Cas felt no worse for the wear.  And if he was honest with himself, he was glad he had slept through the travel.  With that honest thought, he decided to change the subject.  “Where is Sam?”

“Charlie dragged him to lunch.  Airplane food couldn’t fill up that growing boy.  And before you ask why I’m not with them, flying makes me nauseous, and I don’t even want to smell food at this point.”  Dean sat down as he finished speaking, taking Cas’s hand in his with some difficulty.  “This is a new position,” he said, gesturing at Cas’s body.

Frowning as he looked over his own body, Cas said, “The edema is back in full force, but at least, it didn’t seem to affect my back.  Dr. Bevell seemed happily surprised by that bit of news.  She even smiled.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.  Wait until you meet Dr. Stern.” 

Before Cas could ask about the doctor, Sam entered the room with another person in tow.  “Charlie?” said Cas, feeling unsure, worried, and happy all at once.

“Cas.”  Her voice cracked on a sob as she froze.

“It’s okay.  I’m okay.”  Cas let go of Dean’s hand and reached out as best he could, beckoning her.  “Come here, my friend.”  The tentative nature of her approach and touch were in conflict with his friend’s personality.  Whatever happiness he felt was quickly drowned out by the worry.  “You don’t have to be here.”

Anger flashed in her eyes and her voice matched the intensity he saw in them.  “Yes, I do.”  She glared at each of the three men in the room.  “And you will all stop walking on fucking eggshells around me.  I know what I can handle.”

“Yes, you do,” agreed Cas squeezing her hand.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

The moment was interrupted by Antonio’s booming voice.  “Incoming.”

It was a tight squeeze as the room filled with medical personnel.  Cas had never seen such an assembly before, except on hospital tv shows.  It made him uncomfortable, and he felt undeserving of this much attention.  Dean evidently saw his distress because he immediately whispered, “It’s awesome that every patient in this unit gets the same VIP treatment.”  Cas’s tension eased, and he gave Dean a grateful smile.  By then, Dr. Bevell was making the introductions.

The names flew by and Cas tried to concentrate on memorizing each new face with their name.  Meg, Dr. Banes, Dr. Stern, or Naomi as she asked to be called, surprising Cas.  He was not expecting the informality from the very formal looking woman.  Rachel rounded out the introductions as he already knew Donna, who stood grinning from her spot in the corner.  Each person, then, fell into a presentation of their roles.  When they were done with their individual roles, Donna stepped forward and took command of the room.  It was another surprise because he had expected Dr. Bevell to take the lead as she had done in Germany and as they traveled.

“I know this is a lot to learn in one sitting, but we find the more upfront we are the better the outcomes for you and your family.  We will lay out the team’s plan moving forward, including your various therapy schedules and surgeries, but first we would like to hear from you, Castiel, and, of course, your family as well.”

Cas knew exactly where he wanted to begin.  “Please call me, Cas.  Castiel is for use in my professional life.  Since you will all be seeing me in less than flattering states, I think we should not stand on ceremony.”  The assembled group nodded their assent.  “And up front, I would like to apologize for any choice language you will hear from me.  I realized I am not the best patient.  Also, I want to thank all of you for agreeing to the documentary.  It is my profession, but it was also a necessity for several reasons. Dean?”

As if he was unprepared to be called upon, confusion swept across Dean’s face before he schooled his expression and asked, “Um…on that note, what is being done to ensure Cas’s privacy?  I know so far we have gotten lucky.”

“Not lucky, you jackass.  Aaron and I worked our asses off to make sure no one knew Cas’s arrival date and time.”

“I stand corrected.  Sorry Charlie,” Dean said, sheepishly.  “But the question still stands.”

Dr. Bevell took a step forward.  “I assure you Casti…Cas’s privacy is a top priority.  Our security is prepared and so is our PR team.”

“His mother, has she contacted you?”

“Not as of this morning,” said Donna.  “I’ll be your liaison with the PR team, and if anything changes, I’ll let you know the moment I am informed.” 

Dean smiled at Donna, clearly pleased she would be the liaison.  “Good.  Uh…the only other question I have is how is he old enough to be a neurosurgeon?”

The soft chuckles from Meg and Antonio were quickly followed by a beaming smile from Dr. Banes.  “I’m going to like you,” the doctor said as Sam groaned at his older brother, muttering something about _no filter_.  “It’s fine, Sam,” said Dr. Banes. “ I may look young, but I assure you I am the best person to work with Cas’s spinal injuries.”

After that, Sam and Charlie asked several questions about the ICU, the length of stay, and how long they would need to wear masks and gowns.  Those questions triggered the discussion of the long-term plan for Cas’s care.  The upcoming surgery to begin the process of grafting, and how that would change his physical therapy.  The need for both individual and family therapy, and everyone’s support for Cas’s dietary needs.  “We want to make sure once you go home, dietary habits will have been established.  Here and at home.”  Dean groaned at Cas’s side, even as he nodded his agreement. 

“I think that’s enough to process for one day,” interjected Donna, eyeing Cas as he attempted to stifle a yawn.  “Visit, enjoy each other’s company, eat, rest, and be prepared to start your recovery bright and early tomorrow.”  Cas sighed in relief when the room cleared, leaving only his family behind.  For now, he would enjoy the comfortable silence, ignoring, for a few hours, the difficult road ahead.

 

*************

 

Bright and early didn’t quite cover it in Dean’s mind as he rolled out of bed at an ungodly hour.  His sleep had been a disaster of dreams and panic.  Waking several times during the night, scared he was late or in the wrong location.  The last one was by far the worst.  Searching for Cas only to find a marked grave with the name NOVAK.  There was no chance he could go back to sleep after that nightmare, so he went to the kitchen, stumbling through making coffee.  Sam joined him just as it finished brewing.  They sat in silence drinking their coffee and eating, or attempting to eat in Dean’s case.  The cereal was tasteless and difficult to swallow.

“Bad night?” asked Sam as he stared at Dean’s bowl.

“Yeah, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, I guess it can wait until therapy.”

Dean sighed heavily, dropping his head into his hands.  “It’s too fucking early to even think about that shit.  Cas has a bunch of treatments this morning.  Can we get through those first?”

“Sure.  Why don’t you go shower?  Gabe will be here soon.”

Dean had completely forgotten Gabe would be filming today.  Part of him was glad he wouldn’t be responsible for it, but another part would miss the distraction it provided.  “I’m an asshole,” he muttered.  Obviously not quiet enough, because Sam heard.

“Why are you saying that?”

“I just…without the camera in my hands, I won’t…”

“Have a distraction from what’s happening.”  Dean nodded, and Sam continued, “Well, if you’re an asshole, so am I because I was thinking the same thing.”

“Quite the pair we make, Sammy.  Quite the pair,” Dean said as he left the room to go shower.  The hot water eased his tight muscles but failed to lessen his exhaustion.  Travel and worry were a powerful mix, stripping him of sleep.  Shaking off the depressing thought, he turned off the shower and dried quickly.  After dressing in his most comfortable pair of worn jeans and a faded t-shirt, he left his room feeling moderately better. 

That feeling was washed away by mid-morning, replaced by sadness and shock.  He stood backed into a corner of Cas’s room, mouth hanging open.  Cas’s angry, sarcastic voice filling the entire space.  “Dean, what are you doing over there?  Don’t you want to get to know these two better.  I mean who wouldn’t want to know the dynamic duo, Toni and Tony, specialists in torture.  She devises it, and he carries it out.  I think they’re planning on taking their show on the road.  I can see the marquee, Torture All Day, Every Day.”  Dr. Bevell and Antonio’s faces remained placid as Cas shouted, allowing him to hurl his frustration at them without comment.  Dean had tried to keep his emotions in check, but the hate-filled look marring Cas’s beautiful face sent him over the edge.  He fled from the room, not bothering to inform Gabe of his departure.  Racing down the hall, he ripped off his mask, crushing it in his hands.  As he rounded a corner, he tore away his gown and immediately dropped to the floor, back pressed against the wall.  He drew his knees to his chest and buried his face in them.  Donna’s gentle voice calling his name made him lift his head. 

“I don’t know who that is in there.  That is not Cas.  That angry, hateful person is not the man I love.”

“What you’re seeing is a man in tremendous pain struggling to deal with the changes to his body and his life.  Come with me.  This conversation should be had in private.”

Donna led him to the elevator.  Unlike her usual self, she didn’t try to fill the silence.  In fact, she remained quiet until they entered Naomi’s office.  “I know you have a session with the family later today, but Dean just witnessed a troubling event.”

“Please sit and tell me what happened,” said Naomi without delay.

Once seated, Dean launched into a description of the morning, finishing with, “He just lost it.  He was yelling and calling them names.  Talking about torture, and…god, his face, his eyes…he was so angry.  I heard him yelling before when we were in Germany, but this was a whole new level.  I’ve never seen him like that.  I didn’t recognize him.”  As those final moments in the room came back to him, his voice grew quiet.  “I was scared.  He scared me.”

The kindness in Naomi’s eyes seemed out of place on her stony face, but it worked to calm Dean.  It was as if she was waiting for that sign because she didn’t speak until his body relaxed into the chair.  “Dean, first and foremost, I want you to understand Castiel’s reactions are not out of the ordinary.  The emotional and physical turmoil he is suffering will lead to a variety of reactions.  Anger is just one of them and is often what we see in these early stages where the pain of treatment is intense.  As we go through this process of recovery, you must prepare yourself to see him behave in ways he has never done before.  Lethargy, hopelessness, depression, volatility are all common.  And they may come and go rapidly or they may linger.  It is why we have support systems in place, for him and you.  Debilitating injuries damage the body and mind.  Compounding the issue is the pain and disfigurement associated with burns.”

The second the word disfigurement left her mouth Dean felt a surge of anger.  He wanted to lash out, but the touch of Donna’s hand on his forearm forestalled his knee-jerk reaction.  After taking a deep breath, with a bitter edge in his voice, he said, “Cas is not disfigured.”

With a slight nod of approval, Naomi responded, “No, not to you or me, but other people he encounters will see it as such, and more importantly he will see himself that way, as burn patients often do.  Part of understanding Castiel’s outbursts is understanding exactly how he views himself and his injuries.  Other factors are also at play.  When we treat soldiers, we must take into account their military service and how it shapes who they are and how they see themselves.  Not all careers or jobs have the same effect on a person’s life.  I see Castiel’s chosen field as in the same vein as a soldier.  Losing it, even if only for a short time, presents its own set of challenges, adding to the health challenges he is already facing.”

Unable to process the entirety of her words at the moment, one issue jumped out.  “So, that was a test?” asked Dean.  “Wanted to see how I reacted to the word disfigurement.”

“More like a teachable moment if you reacted differently.  I was not trying to be harsh but assessing Cast-”

“Naomi,” interjected Donna, “you need to start using Cas, not Castiel.” 

“Oh, oh, yes,” said Naomi awkwardly.  Clearly flustered by her mistake, she rushed to add, “It is essential for us to assess all those involved.  To help facilitate and to teach, if needed.”

“You mean so I don’t say the wrong thing.”

Donna tapped his arm lightly as if scolding him.  “Dean, Naomi is not singling you out.  We are all prone to say the wrong thing.  I have put my foot in my mouth more times than I like to admit.  And this is my job.”

A restless energy filled Dean, forcing him out of the chair.  “So, did I do the right thing?  Leaving the way I did?  Or did I make it worse?” he asked tentatively. 

“Did you need to leave the room?”

“I don’t…What do you mean?”

Naomi stood up and stepped toward Dean.  “How about this question instead.  What would have happened if you stayed in the room?”

The first image that flashed in Dean’s mind made him cringe.  The second was even worse.  Image after image of his potential responses and their outcomes flooded his thoughts.  Angry retorts, tears, clenched fists, screaming, cowering.  All leading down a negative road.  “I had no choice.  I couldn’t have stayed.”

“Why?”

“Because I would have lashed out in some harmful way.  Cas was already lashing out, adding my loss of control would have compounded the problem.”

Naomi stepped back to her chair, gesturing for Dean to do the same.  “Sometimes we must step away, even if it is only to get some semblance of control over our emotions.”

“And then what?”

“Then you return to Cas with a new perspective and understanding.”

“And maybe try to start a conversation,” added Donna. 

Dean let his shoulders droop as he huffed.  “I am going to hate having to be the grown-up.  Cas is so much better at this shit.”

 

Gathering his nerve took longer than Dean expected so when he finally returned to Cas’s room, the man in question was asleep.  He looked so peaceful, beautiful and young, in stark contrast to the way he had looked just hours earlier when hate radiated from him.  “I want to do right by you.  I want to help you and love you.  I want to understand, and yet I don’t want that.  I don’t want to have to understand why you’re so fucking angry.  Because then I have to accept that you're in so much pain it's turning you into this whole other person.  I wish I could make it better for you.  I wish I had some fucking way to fix this, but all I can do is sit here.”

Dean hadn’t realized he was resting his head on the rail of the bed until he felt fingers run through his hair.  “You being here helps,” whispered Cas as he tightened his fingers in Dean’s hair.  “You make it better.”

“I couldn’t do anything for you today.”

“Yeah, well, no one could have.  I was lost inside myself.”

“And how are you now?”

Cas chuckled, mirthlessly.  “Embarrassed, disappointed in myself, guilt-ridden.  Dr. Bevell and Antonio, of course, tried to disabuse me of that, but no one deserves…”  His voice trailed off prompting Dean to lift his head, finding sad blue eyes staring back at him.  “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Cas.”

Shaking his head, Cas said, “You had to leave the room, Dean.  I saw your face.  I saw what-”

Cutting him off, Dean said, “What you saw was someone who didn’t know what to do.  What you saw was someone who loves you struggling with how to help.”

“I thought we were going to be honest with each other.  You were scared.”

Dean wanted to deny it but knew it was futile.  Cas read him too well and wouldn’t believe him even if he tried.  “I was.”

Cas closed his eyes and laid his head back with a heavy sigh.  “I never want you to be afraid of me.”

“Cas, it wasn’t that I was afraid of you.  It was more that I was afraid for you, for us.  You have always been the calm one, the stoic one.  I’m not sure I’ve ever really seen you angry before, so seeing you-”  Dean stopped abruptly, unable to think of an appropriate way to explain it.

“I think the words you’re looking for are ranting and raving,” stated Cas, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

Not one to simply agree, Dean said, “I wouldn’t go that far, but it did shock me.”

“You aren’t the only one shocked by it.  I never saw myself as an angry person before this happened, but now, I have this anger seething inside and sometimes I just can’t stop myself from letting it out.  It’s like a bow string being pulled and pulled and pulled until it snaps.  And once it’s over, I’m more exhausted than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Cas had finally looked at him, staring at Dean with a plea in his eyes.  Dean wanted to reassure him and comfort him, but he also wanted to push him.  _How the hell do you do both?_   _I bet Sam would know.  Cas would definitely know_ , he thought.

“Dean?” Cas said, drawing Dean out of his downward spiral and triggering another bout of internal dialogue.

_Quit waiting for the perfect response and just go for it_.  “Here’s the thing, Cas.  This is nothing new for the people working here, and maybe it’s surprising for those of us who know you, but it doesn’t change how we feel about you.  But it also doesn’t excuse your behavior nor does it give you the right to keep doing it without trying to find another method.”

“You don’t have to be nervous about calling me out.  I deserve it, and I understand, Dean.  Besides, I don’t want anyone else seeing me that way, so I’ll…um…talk to Dr. St…Naomi about it.”

“Good.  That’s all I ask,” responded Dean as he shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable.  “But, um, Cas, Gabe was filming, and you said, _show it all_ , sooo…”

Cas nodded, “I did and I meant it, but seeing it on film and being in the room are two very different situations.”

“I suppose they are.  If it makes you feel better, Charlie and Sam weren’t here when it all went down.   And Donna found me in the hall and immediately took me to see Naomi.”

“Did that help?”

“It did.  A lot actually.”  Dean smiled at Cas, receiving a small one in return.  “I think having people to talk to will be good for all of us.”


	27. Sam's Observations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the feedback on these last few chapters. Writing about the medical aspects in this story is a struggle and your encouraging words certainly help me keep pushing forward.

The tension in the room was palpable, and part of Sam wanted to escape it, but when he looked over at Dean, he saw him purposely lean back in his chair and settle in for the long haul.  The decision was made, if Dean was staying, so was he.  In a way it was strange that Dean wasn’t ushering him out the door.  It had become a common occurrence over the past ten days, and one Sam was struggling to understand.  While in Europe, Dean leaned on him and accepted his presence, but here, he wanted to shield Sam from the process and from Cas’s mood swings, specifically his anger.  There were times Sam let his brother dictate without argument because Dean seemed to need to take charge.  And if he was being honest with himself, there were times he needed a break.  Those breaks never lasted long, and eventually they didn’t amount to a break at all.  Not once Gabe enlisted his help in reviewing film.  Watching the heartbreaking moments, the pain-filled moments, the tears, the anger, the panic and seeing the swirling emotions etched on the faces of his family and friends was brutal, but to Sam it was also necessary.  He needed to know what was happening, and he needed to help, for as long as he was here.  His mind immediately drifted back to the morning’s argument.

_“Sammy, we discussed this.  You are not deferring.  You are going back to school.  This fall.”_

_Sam had given up any pretense of staying calm.  The stress of the last weeks was finally bubbling over for all of them it seemed.  Cas wasn’t alone in his shifting moods.  Sam let his anger speak for him.  “You are not in charge of me, Dean.  I am an adult.  If I want to take time off to support my family, I can and you can’t stop me.”_

_“No, but I can,” said Cas sedately.  “Sam, I am already consumed by guilt over your brother.  You cannot ask me to compound it by adding this to the mix.”_

_“Cas,” Dean sighed, “You don’t-”_

_Cas cut him off by smacking his hand on the bed rail.  “You skipped interviews, Dean.  You put your career on hold without consulting me or anyone else.  You’ve ignored calls from Carmen.”_

_“How do you know that?”_

_“Because Carmen told Charlie.  They hadn’t filled the position.  You still had a chance if you would have bothered answering your damn phone.”_

_The look Dean gave Cas was one Sam had seen many times.  His mind was made up, and he was deeply entrenched in his belief, in the rightness of his decision.  Nothing Sam or Cas could say would change his mind.  Dean was determined to be by Cas’s side every day through his recovery.  He would not leave him.  It was plain and simple and Sam understood it.  Dean loved Cas and nothing else mattered.  Sam thought he could use the same argument for staying, but Dean had shut him down by saying, “It’s not the same.  He’s my partner, Sam.”  And Sam couldn’t help the flash of pride he felt for his older brother.  Once he allowed himself to open up to Cas, he had done it with a wide open heart for all the world to see and in the wake of the attack, he had not wavered, for even a second.  Even when Cas yelled at him or demanded he leave, Dean remained resolute and loving.  The pride he felt didn’t alleviate Sam’s frustration with Dean, so he said, “If that’s the case, Dean, you’re a hypocrite.”_

_“Dammit, Sam.” Dean’s hands were gripping the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles were white.  “We’ve been over this.”_

_Before Sam could respond, Cas interjected, “I don’t want to rehash the previous arguments.  I need you to hear me, Sam.  The guilt over your brother’s delayed career eats at me.  It’s what I spent my last therapy session trying to come to grips with, so I need you to go to school.  To live your life and not put it on hold.  By the time you go, I will be home and with the feeling in my legs returning, I might even be walking by then.  And we aren’t alone.  We have a whole medical team, not to mention our crazy adopted family.  Please, do this for me.”_

_It was the quaver in Cas’s voice and the hint of tears in his eyes that did it for Sam.  Cas was already carrying heavy burdens, and Sam would not add to them.  He could stuff his own wants and needs down to give Cas what he needed.  “All right, Cas, but I have a condition.  Dean needs to call Carmen.”_

_“Why would I do that?  I’m already set to go back to work at Bobby’s.  The schedule will be as flexible as I need with no explanations necessary.”_

_Sam shook his head.  “I know, but that doesn’t mean you should ignore your future options.  Staying in contact with potential employers will make it easier when you eventually seek a teaching job.”_

Cas had verbally agreed with Sam while Dean had grumbled under his breath.  It was how many of their discussions ended these days.  It was how they ended up in their current situation with their latest visitor standing in the room and a whole lot of tension surrounding them.  The only difference this time was that it was Sam and Cas in agreement.  Dean complained and cajoled but lost the argument, muttering about stubborn assholes, putting themselves in shitty situations.  And Sam wondered just how right his brother would turn out to be as he looked around the room.  He spotted the camera, being loosely held at Carlos’s side.  He was one of two others hired, from Cas’s very short list of approved people, to assist with the filming.  Despite being Cas’s friend, Carlos looked like he wanted to rush out of the room.  Sam could relate and not just because he had felt a similar need moments ago, but also because he remembered his reaction the first time he met Hester Novak.  She was no less intimidating now, but not to her son.  Cas was glaring at his mother as she stood stiffly a mere foot inside the door.  The pinched expression on her face seemed to intensify the longer her order went ignored.

“I asked to speak to my son alone.” 

“No, mother, you ordered them to leave.”

“Semantics, Castiel.”

Cas sighed as he shifted his gaze to Dean.  “Mother, Dean and Sam are my family.  You have no right to come in here and demand they leave.  I want them here.  Period.  So say whatever it is you came to say and then kindly leave.  And Carlos, pick the damn camera back up and film.” 

“Castiel, I don’t think-”

Dean sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he interrupted the senator.  “Hester, you agreed to the filming or you wouldn’t be in this room.  Isn’t that right, Sammy?”

“Yeah, it is.  She signed the contract.  Gabe has it with the others.”

Hester shook her head slightly and frowned.  “Fine.  Film away.  I didn’t come here to argue.”

“Why did you come?” Sam said without thinking.

“To make sure my son was being properly cared for.”

Cas scoffed and then laughed out right.  “I was not expecting that.” 

Senator Novak stepped back and her face fell before she schooled it.  Sam had seen the flash of vulnerability, and it surprised him.  And he was not the only one.  “Hester, why don’t you take a seat and talk to Cas,” Dean said softly as he stood up and gestured at the chair.  Her expression morphed into one of confusion as she took the offered seat.

“Thank you,” she said tentatively, almost demurely.  Sam’s mouth dropped open and stayed there as she added, “Castiel, I was so worried for you.”

It didn’t seem Cas bought her sincerity.  “Mother, you have not been concerned for my welfare since I was…well, ever.  You pawned me off on nannies and never looked at me unless I was doing something you disapproved of, and then it was only to scold me or tell me what a disappoint I was.  I don’t see why now would be any different.”

Hester remained stoic as Cas spoke, taking his words in without interruption.  “I didn’t understand you, Castiel.  I still don’t, but you are my child and when you went missing I felt loss.  Not something I have ever felt before.”

“We have barely spoken to each other since I left home.”

“But I always knew where you were and what you were doing.  And suddenly I didn’t and then to find out you were injured…I’m not going to lie and say I had only altruistic motives for getting involved the way I did, but it was also not solely politically motivated either.  Not that it matters anyway.  I was wholeheartedly thwarted by your friends.”

Finding his voice, Sam said, “With good reason.”

There was skepticism on Hester’s face, but she did not argue, remaining silent.  Cas took the opening.  “I never wanted to be part of your publicity machine.  I never fit your image of a good son, even before you knew I was gay.”  Cas paused briefly and when he resumed speaking his voice dropped, coming out low and hard.  “And that look.  That one is the reason I left home.  You could never mask how you really felt about me.  Not when I was five and wanted a doll, or when I was fifteen and I died my hair blue, or when I got my tattoo.  And especially when you saw me holding another boy’s hand.  I think you should leave.”

Dean moved closer to the bed, resting his hand on Cas’s leg.  “You heard the man.”

Hester didn’t move.  She sat perfectly still, staring at her son.  “I never meant to hurt you.  I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

“I know that,” said Cas, sounding resigned instead of angry.  “But it doesn’t matter because you did.  You always do.”

“I…I don’t-” She stopped abruptly.

Cas settled his gaze on the senator, taking several deep breaths before speaking.  “I forgive you, but I don’t want you in my life.  I don’t need you in my life because I have a full one.  I have a career I love. Family and friends who I love and love me in return.  And along the way I found the love of my life.”

“What?” snapped Hester.

Ignoring her completely, Dean leaned over Cas with a huge grin on his face.  “Love you, too, sunshine.  Always.”

Sam smiled at the display before looking back at the senator.  Instead of the disgust he expected to see, she looked almost serene.  With a quick nod of her head, she stood and walked toward the door.  “I’ve seen what I came for.”

“And what was that exactly?” asked Dean.

She stopped and turned to look at Dean.  “As I previously said, to see he was being cared for.  Properly.”  Before anyone could respond, she left the room.  Dead silence followed her exit.  Sam was stumped by the entire interaction and no words came to mind.  He felt a nervous chuckle pushing to the surface but stomped it back down.  Carlos’s quiet ‘damn’ from the corner finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Damn is right,” said Dean.  “You forgave her, Cas.”

“I know I was there, Dean.”

“Don’t be snarky.  This is a big deal.”

“It is.  It was time.  She is not a part of my life so holding onto anger is pointless.  And I’m done worrying about her.  I’m done worrying about what she wants or what she’s going to do.”  he said the last word as he yawned. 

The yawn signaled it was time to go so Sam pushed himself off the wall and said his goodbyes while Carlos packed away the gear.  They exited together, removing their gowns and masks, hopefully for one of the last times.  Cas’s progress had hit a bump several days ago.  One of his burns was not healing as it should, eliciting a surgery.  Taking the opportunity presented, the surgical team debrided that area, but also grafted another area.  With that graft, discussions about moving Cas out of ICU started.  His body was healing well and recovered from surgery faster than expected.  With some feeling returning to Cas’s legs and his itch to get moving, the team was debating the risk of infection versus the risk to his mental state.  Dr. Bevell wanted to keep him in ICU longer, but Dr. Banes was adamant he should be moved.  There seemed to be a pretty even divide with the rest of the medical team, but Sam was inclined to listen to Antonio.  He was most familiar with Cas’s wounds and his needs.  He was the one who bore the brunt of Cas’s frustration and he was pushing for the move.  Having listened to Antonio’s reasoning, Sam had studied Cas more closely and saw the signs of depression underneath the angry outbursts. 

“I hope they move him,” said Sam.

Carlos nodded in agreement.  “I think they will.  I heard Meg talking to Dr. Bevell.  They seemed to be agreeing about the next steps for Cas’s physical therapy.”

“That’s a good sign.  I know Meg wants to work with him in one of the therapy rooms.”  They had reached the end of the hall, and Sam looked back over his shoulder.  “I doubt Dean will leave him any time soon.  You want to go grab some dinner with me.  I’m getting tired of eating alone.”

 

Later that night, Sam was laying in bed unable to sleep when he heard the door open.  He immediately crawled out of bed to make sure Dean ate something before going to bed.  He often forgot if someone didn’t remind him.  Dean was sitting on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table. 

“Thought you’d be asleep.”

“I tried, but no such luck.  Did you eat?”

“Yeah, Rachel showed up a little bit after you left.  Read me the riot act about properly caring for myself and not losing any more weight before she started talking about Cas.  She was concerned about his protein intake and his salt levels being too low.  His body needs more than he’s taking in or something.”

Sam sat down next to Dean.  “I don’t know why you are struggling to understand this part of his care.  They have explained this to you many times.  His calorie and protein intake have to be high to help the healing process.  If he doesn’t get enough, it will take the nutrients from his body which is dangerous.  Think of it as someone with an unnaturally high metabolism, exercising constantly, but not replenishing the calories they expend.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.  Still don’t understand the whole salt thing, but I’m tired of all the medical talk.”  It was obviously true because Dean quickly changed the subject.  “Can you believe he forgave her?  I don’t think I could do that if John showed up one day.”

“That’s different Dean.  He ran out on us.  Cas’s mom may not have understood or accepted him, but he lived with her until he was eighteen.”

Dean shook his head even as he conceded.  “I suppose it is different.  I just…she still doesn’t accept him or us.  It pisses me off.”

Sam’s first inclination was to agree with Dean, but he thought better of it.  Cas clearly needed to move on from Hester and her views.  “I think you need to go along with Cas on this.  It’s his mother, and it seems he’s ready to move on and put it all, put her, behind him.”

“Yeah, I guess.”  Dean ran his hand through his hair.  “Man, it was a long fucking day.  I fell asleep in the chair, and the night nurse was not happy with me.”

The subject of sleep brought to mind a topic Sam had been meaning to discuss with Dean but hadn’t managed to find the time to speak with him alone.  “About sleep.  When Charlie took me to the house to get more of our clothes, I saw the changes you made.  Did you talk to Cas about it?”

Leaning his head back on couch, Dean closed his eyes, exhaling sharply.  “What’s there to talk about?  I’m not leaving him downstairs alone when he’s barely mobile.  The easiest thing to do was expand the room and add a bed.”

This brought up a whole other sensitive topic.  “He may not be home for a while, and by then he may be walking.”

“Dammit, Sam.  I have to spend enough of my energy trying to positive at the fucking hospital.  I don’t need to do that shit here.  Cas got some feeling back.  Sure, that’s great, but it’s minor and not very widespread.  There’s been no movement.  We have no idea what’s going to happen.  They have no idea.”

“I know, but Carlos overheard Meg talking to Dr. Bevell about the next steps in his physical therapy.”

“He’s still got a fucking cast on his left leg, and after the autograft, he’s now got wounds on both his thighs.  Exactly what next steps are there.  He barely tolerates what they do now.”

Arguments came to mind, but Sam suddenly didn’t have the energy to make them.  He understood Dean’s statement about trying so hard to be positive.  It was exhausting, so he gave into his own misgivings.  “It’s why I don’t want to leave, Dean.  What if he isn’t any better by the time I have to go?  I’ll hate not knowing what’s happening and how he is.”

Opening his eyes, Dean turned his head to face Sam.  “I get it, but we can’t all put our lives on hold.”

“But you are.”

“Not in the way you think.  Sure, I want to be a teacher, but there’s no hurry and I love working at Bobby’s.  And Cas…he’s my life now, Sammy.”

There was passion and steel in Dean’s eyes as he said those words, and it took several seconds for Sam to process, and even then, he blundered his response.  “I never thought you’d…”

“I’d what, love someone like that.  Gee, thanks.”

“No, um…I don’t know.  You always seemed to keep a distance between yourself and the people you dated.  Even after all that time with Carmen.  But I guess it makes sense it would be different with Cas.”  The question in Dean’s expression made Sam continue.  “He’s been a part of our family for a long time.  He was there for you when Mom died, and you let him shoulder some of the burden.  It was something else I never thought you’d do.”

Dean smiled, it was tired and small, but Sam was glad to see it.  “I know we’ve talked about some of this before, but it’s always been easy with Cas.  I felt safe with him in way I hadn’t felt since dad left.  With Mom and you, I thought I had to be the strong one.  Take it all on and hold us together, but with him I never felt that way.  I always felt I could confide in him and cry on his shoulder.  I trusted him.”

“You loved him.”

A softness settled over Dean’s face.  “I did.  Not that I understood it at the time.”

“Or for years after,” Sam said with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, pat yourself on the back.  You figured it out before your big dumb brother.”

Sam’s smirk quickly faded into a frown.  “I hate it when you act like you’re the dumb one.  And so, does Cas.”

“Sam, I don’t really feel that way anymore.   I haven’t for years.”

“Then why do you joke about it.”

Dean grinned as he reached out and ruffled Sam’s hair.  “Habit, kiddo.”  He jumped up off the couch, making Sam miss when he tried to whack his shoulder.  “See, I’m smart enough to anticipate that move.  And now I’m going to take my smart ass to bed.”  Sam burst out laughing.  “Shut up, bitch, you know what I meant.”

Sam stood up and pulled Dean into a hug.  “Love you, too, jerk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Autografts are skin grafts using tissue from the burn patient. They remove healthy tissue from one part of the body and transfer it to the burned area. Cas got a graft from his right thigh to cover a section of his left one. 
> 
> Salt intake is important for any critically ill patient, but it is even more essential in burn patients. With a low salt level, patients can develop hypernatremia. Swelling can occur as the water levels in the body rise, it can hinder wound healing and the success of skin grafts, and can result in other health problems such as vomiting, headaches and seizures. If left untreated, it can lead to coma or death.


	28. Cas - New Horizons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took longer because my writing kept reflecting my bad mood. It required a lot of stops, starts, deletions, and rewrites, but I think this one will be worth wait.

The pain was a dull throb permeating his body.  A constant presence he had come to accept and, on his better days, understand.  When it sparked, white and hot, during certain treatments or exercises, he used that acceptance and knowledge to keep a lid on his reactions, effectively derailing his angry outbursts.  Meg constantly talked about channeling that energy into his healing, and today was no exception.

“Use that pain, come on Clarence.”

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

Rolling her eyes, Meg said, “And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to watch the damn movie.”

Cas returned the eye roll.  “I’ve seen the movie, Meg.  But considering I’m already named after an angel there is no reason to-”  His jaw snapped shut as pain shot through his hand and up his arm.  “Fuck.”  He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.  Slowly, the pain ebbed. 

“Ready? Only five more.”

“Ready,” Cas stated, bracing himself for the next wave of pain.  It came quick and hard but faded much more quickly.  By the last one, the pain was back to the familiar dull throb.  He brought his eyes up to meet Meg’s.  “I did my part, now you have to do yours.”

“Do you have so little faith in me?”  She shook her head and waved him off when he went to speak.  “It’s already in the works.”  After a week of setbacks, he wanted to believe her.  A rush of hope swept over his body and a smile erupted on his face, but both responses were quickly tempered by nagging worries.  “No, you don’t.  Put that smile back on your face, Clarence.  It’s a done deal this time.  And I need to go now if you want your plan to go off without a hitch.” 

Cas stayed silent as he watched her pack up and exit the room.   When she was gone, he turned to face the camera.  “Gabe, I know I said film it all, but…not….I need…”

“You don’t need to explain.  If you don’t want it filmed, it won’t be filmed.  Just tell me when to cut, and I will.”

Tipping his head up, Cas stared at the ceiling.  “There will be no need to cut because I don’t want you or that camera in the room.  You can film as they get me set up, but then you are leaving, along with everyone else.”  A chuckle drew Cas’s eyes to a smirking Gabe.  “What?”

“I wasn’t planning on being in the room.  Pretty sure I don’t want to see the sappy ass expression Deano’s going to be wearing.  It was bad enough filming his sad, disgruntled face when Donna came to get him.”

Cas smiled at the memory, picturing the stubborn set of Dean’s shoulders and his exaggerated pout. 

_“I am not leaving him, Donna.”_

_Donna smiled, knowingly.  “Dean, you know that stubborn fool will try to do it himself and will wind up hurt.”_

_“Dammit, what the hell was Bobby thinking anyway?  There’s no way he should be going on his roof.”_

_“You’ll have to ask him.”_

_Dean sighed heavily.  “Fine, I’ll go,” he said dejectedly.  As he turned to face Cas, he added,  “I promise I won’t be gone long.”_

Pulling himself out of the memory, Cas asked, “Do you think it will work?”

“Oh, yeah, there is no way Donna will let him back here before you’re ready.  I’m sure whatever damage Bobby cooked up will take plenty of time to repair, and if not, Donna is prepared to stall.”  Gabe paused for a second.  “I know you’re worried this is all going to go to crap again, but Cas this is a done deal.  Meg was not lying.  They already let me see your new room to figure out the best camera positions.”

Before Cas could respond, Dr. Bevell entered the room, followed closely by Antonio who had a huge grin on his face.  “Castiel, it’s time,” said his doctor with her usual gravity. 

 

The process was quicker and more overwhelming than expected.  When Antonio approached him with a set of loose-fitting clothes Cas nearly cried.  He held off as they readied his IV bag and dressed him.  The tears finally spilled over when they moved him to the wheelchair.  The moment his body sat back in the chair, he realized it was real.  He was leaving the ICU.  It was a major step toward being allowed to leave the hospital.  Cas desperately wanted to feel fresh air on his skin, and he had begun to feel it would never happen.  When they halted the move the previous week due to signs of infection in his graft site, Cas fell into depression, pushing everyone away.  He wouldn’t listen to anyone’s assurances that the decision was a temporary preventative measure.  No one could breakthrough his dark cloud until Dean attended Cas’s therapy session with him.  For some reason, holding Dean’s hand as he talked about his fears eased them to a degree.  Between Dean’s unwavering support and Naomi’s steady countenance, a glimmer of hope returned.  The glimmer never fully materialized into belief.  Sitting in the wheelchair, knowing the plan was in process, Cas let the last of his despair wash away.

Tears fell as Antonio wheeled him down the hall, and Cas simply let them.  He didn’t try to cover or swipe them away.  He let himself feel each and every emotion sweeping over him.  By the time, they reached his new room, he was all cried out.  Wiping his eyes, he took in his surroundings.  “No, no, not the bed,” he said as Antonio positioned the wheelchair next to it.  “Please, not the bed.”

“Not the bed.  Got it.  Let’s set you up by the window.”   Relief flooded through Cas, drawing out a smile.  “You don’t do that nearly enough,” quipped Antonio.

“What?”

“Smile, my friend.”

Cas chuckled, “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“Shocker.”

Shaking his head, Cas sighed, “I see why you and Dean get along so well.”

The tone of Antonio’s voice grew serious.  “Dean’s a good man.” 

“He is.  I’m very lucky,” responded Cas as Antonio helped him shift from the wheelchair to the seat by the window.  “Ow, fuck.”  Cas closed his eyes, willing the pain away.  He didn’t want his injuries to be the focus.  Not today. 

“Where are you hurting?”

Cas opened his eyes, grimacing at another shock of pain.  “My hip.”

Antonio’s lips quirked up. “Your hip.”

“Yes.  Why are you grinning?”

“I’m not-” started Antonio.  Cas raised his eyebrow and frowned at his nurse as if to say, ‘try again’.  “Fine, but give me some credit, I was at least trying to contain it since you were in pain.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Openly smiling now, Antonio nodded.  “I know, but, Castiel, if you think about it for a second…”  

Staring at his nurse, thinking about the last few moments, another conversation began replaying in Cas’s mind.

_“Do you feel this?”  Cas shook his head.  “How about now?”  A faint touch resonated from his right foot.   Cas nodded.  “And here?”  The touch was more pronounced, so Cas nodded once again.  “Good.  That’s good.  How about here?”  Pain shot through his left leg and up into his hip, forcing his body to contort away from the touch.  “That is a good sign,” said Dr. Karman._

_“Pain is a good sign,” Cas gritted out._

_“It is.  Dead tissue does not feel pain.  Neither does a paralyzed limb.”_

Cas’s eyes flew wide open, and he sucked in a breath.  On the exhale, he said, “I felt that.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I can feel my hip,” whispered Cas, hearing the awe in his own voice. 

Antonio stood up quickly, pulling the wheelchair away from Cas.  “I’ll go get Dr. Bevell.”

As much as Cas wanted to see his doctor to discuss the new development that was not part of the plan.  “No, no.  Dean will be here soon.  I don’t want…When he sees me, I want it to just be about us, not…” Cas paused unsure how to explain.  “Not all this,” he finally finished, sounding defeated.

“Makes sense to me.  Dr. Bevell can wait.”  Without any further discussion, Antonio put the call button on the table next to Cas, moved the wheelchair near the door, and came back to do one last check.  “Do you need a blanket?”

“No, I’m good.”

Shifting from foot to foot Antonio hesitated near the door.  “I know you want privacy when Dean comes, but I won’t be far away.  Call if you need anything.  Otherwise, I’ll see you at dinner time.”

“Thank you, Antonio, for everything.”  Quiet enveloped Cas as the door shut behind the nurse.  It was the first time he had been alone since the explosion.  Between Benny and the staff in Sana’a, to Dean and Sam and the staff at Landstuhl, to his family and friends and the staff at Grossman, Cas was always in the presence of someone.  Even if the person remained silent while filming, they were in the room observing.  And here in this room, he was blissfully alone.  Alone to think of all that had transpired, of the lives lost, of the generosity of strangers, the love of family, and the support of friends, near and far.  His mind filtered through memories.  Images of his video chat with Sophie, ensconced in Yemen to cover the release of the hostages.  Julian’s regretful voice when he said he could not come to visit yet.  Carlos and Gabe’s pained faces as they filmed the worst of his treatments and behavior.  The understanding and love he received after his outbursts.  But most of all his thoughts drifted to Dean.  To the man he loved who wouldn’t leave when Cas demanded it.  The one who always appeared when Cas most needed him. 

It was as if his thoughts drew the man to him.  The sound of a frustrated voice filtered through the cracked door.  It was clearly Dean’s voice even if Cas could not discern the words.  As the sound drew closer, he heard Dean say, “I have already been gone longer than I expected.  I need to see him now.  Whatever you need to show me can wait.”

A loud huff preceded Meg’s irritated voice.  “Dean, it’s just a quick detour, and then you can see him.”

“Donna, back me up here.  Whatever this is can wait.”

Cas didn’t hear the beginning of Donna’s response, but it finished with, “Dean, just trust her.”  He spotted shadows outside his door just before it swung open.  Dean’s back was to him, and the two women were standing almost shoulder to shoulder facing him. 

“I want to see-” Dean cut off abruptly as Meg reached out and grabbed his shoulders, physically turning him.  His eyes remained on the physical therapist.  “You are freakishly strong for someone so…”  His voice trailed off when Meg pushed his chin, and he finally looked at the room.  “Cas.”  Dean froze and then took a faltering step forward before freezing again.

“Dean, come here,” said Cas, holding out his hand.  Instead of coming forward, Dean looked back at Meg and Donna. 

“Go get him, tiger,” said Meg as both women nodded. 

Dean’s head immediately flipped back around, making eye contact with Cas.  He slowly walked across the room.  A smile gradually forming on his lips as tears streamed down his face.  Seeing those tears flow freely, instead of dampening a mask, was mesmerizing, but it was the smile Cas had missed so much that made him stop breathing.  It was breathtaking.  “You’re beautiful,” said Cas, breathily.  The blush on Dean’s cheeks only made him more beautiful in Cas’s eyes.  Dean shook his head, dropping to his knees in front of Cas.   “You are.  So beautiful,” repeated Cas as he ran his finger along Dean’s jawline before tracing Dean’s bottom lip.  Dean closed his eyes and shuddered, bracing himself on Cas’s thighs.  The touch elicited a sharp intake of breath from Cas. 

Dean’s eyes snapped open, shock evident in his expression.  “Did you feel that?”  Cas didn’t respond.  “Cas, did you…” Dean said as he slid his hands up Cas’s thighs, adding pressure as he went.  Cas whimpered, not only from the feeling, but also from the intimacy of the touch.  “You did.  You felt that.”  Dean rocked back on his heels.  “Shit, I need to get Dr. Bevell.” 

Cas gripped Dean’s hand, stopping him from standing.  “Dean, stay.”

“But…”

“That can wait.   Just stay and let me look at you, touch you.”  Cas’s voice cracked with the intensity of his emotions.

“Yeah, yeah.  I’ll stay.”  Leaning forward, he settled between Cas’s thighs.  Cas released his hand, and Dean immediately brought it up and cupped Cas’s cheek.  “Oh, fuck.  Shit, I…Cas.”  Cas closed his eyes as Dean brushed his cheek with his thumb and rested his other hand on Cas’s thigh.  “Please open your eyes.  I need to see you.”

Cas complied instantly, reveling in the dual sensations.  The light touch on his face and the increasingly firm touch on his thigh.  He could feel the heat of Dean’s touch without the barrier of neoprene between them.  Bringing his own hand back up, he lightly ran it through Dean’s hair before gripping the back of his neck.  With a gentle tug, Dean leaned into his space.  Cas closed the distance between them, tenderly kissing Dean’s forehead.  “I missed your smile,” Cas whispered, lips brushing Dean’s temple.  “Feeling your touch on my skin…” He said as he lowered his lips to Dean’s ear. 

“Cas, please.  I need to kiss you.”

Pulling his head back, Cas stared into Dean’s eyes.  They shimmered with new tears, but even more they displayed the man’s desire.  “Kiss me.”  Surging up, Dean pressed his lips to Cas’s, nipping at the tender flesh.  Parting his lips, Cas welcomed Dean to take more.  Cas moaned at the slight touch of Dean’s tongue. 

“Holy fuck, that sound…” Dean said, throatily. 

Cas ran his tongue along Dean’s bottom lip before sliding it into the heat of Dean’s mouth, receiving a groan in response.  His body trembled, making his arm brush against the chair.  He tried to pretend the sound he made was from their contact and not from pain.  When Dean pulled away with a concerned expression on his face, Cas knew he failed.  “I’m fine.”

“That was not the sexy kind of groan, Cas.  What happened?”

“My arm rubbed against the chair.”  Cas knew exactly what he would see in Dean’s face, and he was not wrong.  Guilt and sadness warred for prominence.  “You did nothing wrong.”

“I got carried away.”

“Sweetheart, I was the one who escalated the kiss.  I was the one who set this all up to give us privacy.  This is what I wanted.  What I needed.  Do not let my injuries ruin this,” Cas pleaded.  “They’ve ruined enough already.” 

Dean nodded, hesitantly.  “You know I want this, that I’ve been waiting for this day, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Cas bit his bottom lip, trying to keep himself from snapping at Dean.  Releasing his lip on a sigh, he said, “I am hurt.  There is no way around that.  I need you to accept it and move past it.  I have loved you for years, Dean.  And I have known of your love for months, and we have been prevented from showing each other.  But now we can.  A little pain is worth it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.  It’s your body.  You should decide.”  Dean smiled, brushing Cas’s hair off his forehead.  “But before we do anything, I need to get off my knees.”  Planting a kiss on the newly exposed skin, Dean stood and looked around the room.  “Um…I’ll be right back.”  Cas watched as Dean practically bounded out of the room.  It wasn’t long before he heard rustling and some intermittent grunting. There was a bang on the door just as he heard, “What the hell are you doing Winchester?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Where did you even get that?” asked Antonio.

Dean chuckled, deep and loud.  “That little alcove near the stairs.”

“Wait, you pilfered this from another floor.”

“Yep,” quipped Dean.  Cas smiled as he pictured Dean’s cocky grin.

Meg’s voice joined the conversation.  “You were supposed to be doing the other kind of moving furniture.”

“Yeah, well, I was sick of being on my knees.”  Shocked gasps and Meg’s devilish laughter filtered through the door.  “That is not what I meant.  I was kneeling…ya know what, fuck you.  I don’t have to explain.  Help me with this thing or get out of here.”  The door finally opened to reveal a flush-faced Dean carrying one end of a small couch. 

“Where do you want it?” asked Antonio as he cleared the doorway. 

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” 

Antonio rolled his eyes.  “Figures.”

After several minutes and with some maneuvering, they managed to squeeze the couch next to Cas’s chair. With a huff, Dean sat down on it.  “You want to join me,” he said, smiling at Cas while patting the space next to him.  Cas smiled and nodded.  As Antonio approached, Dean said, “I got him.”

“I guess I’ll go then,” said Antonio.  “Remember, dinner’s in an hour.”

Dean waited until the door shut before standing up and moving toward Cas’s right side.  “You ready.”

“Yes.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Of course, Dean.”

“I’ve seen Antonio do it enough times.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

Dean lowered his eyes and sighed.  “Guess I’m a little nervous.”

Reaching out, Cas ran his fingers down Dean’s arm and clasped his hand.  “I trust you, Dean.”  With that, Dean lifted Cas off the chair, moved him to the couch, and sat down next to him.  He curled up against Cas, resting his head on his chest. 

“Feels like home,” breathed Dean.

Cas ran his hand through Dean’s hair and along his upper spine.  “It does.”

“Do you remember the first time you held me like this?”

His arm tightened involuntarily around Dean at the memory.  “It was the night of Mary’s funeral.”

Dean’s arm slid around Cas’s waist, mindful of his burns.  “It was.  You took my fear away that day, and it only came back when I lost you.”

“You didn’t lose me.”  Cas tugged lightly on Dean’s hair.  “Dean look at me.”  Slowly, the younger man tipped his head back and looked up at Cas.  As their gazes locked, Cas whispered, “You didn’t lose me.  I’m right here.”  Lowering his head, he captured Dean’s lips in a deep, slow kiss.  It was wet and hot and everything Cas knew they both needed.  Proof that they were both here and both loved.  When they broke away, they were both panting.  Cas buried his face in Dean’s neck, breathing in his scent and relishing the pulse under his lips and the trembling body in his arms.  His own body shuddered in response. 

“Cas, are you…”

“Don’t you dare ask if I’m okay.”

“No, um…that’s not…”  Dean stuttered as Cas nipped at his jawline.  “Are you…ah…reacting?”

Cas stopped his ministrations trying to parse Dean’s words.  He chuckled when he figured out the meaning.  “Are you asking if I have an erection?”

Huffing, Dean buried his face in his hand.  “You would say it like that.”

“Dean, I have fantasized about kissing you and touching you for years.  Of course, I’m reacting.”  From the tautness of the body in his arms, Cas could tell it wasn’t only embarrassment Dean was feeling. 

Before he could ask what was wrong, Dean lowered his hands and said with a shaky voice.  “I didn’t know if…um...” 

“My cock worked,” snapped Cas.  “And exactly how long have you been wondering about that.”

Dean shook his head emphatically.  “I never even thought of it until I heard you yelling about it to Antonio.  And I wouldn’t care either way.”

Cas chuckled humorlessly.  “You expect me to believe you wouldn’t care.”

“Yes, I do, because I love you.  And not for your dick.”  With a smirk and cheeky wink, Dean added, “Your magnificent ass is another story.”  Cas’s laughter was deep and real and was drowned out quickly by the press of Dean’s mouth.  Cas quickly took control of the kiss, demanding entry with a firm swipe of his tongue.  In response, Dean practically crawled into Cas’s lap, rubbing against his hard cock.  “Maybe I spoke too soon,” Dean said as he broke the kiss on a gasp.  “That feels pretty damn magnificent.”

“Hmm…yes, it does.”  Despite the pain rocketing down his left side, Cas tugged Dean closer.  Knowing he wouldn’t be able to mask the pain much longer, he gave Dean one last kiss before resting their foreheads together.  They stayed that way until their breathing evened out, and Dean seemed to notice his position.

“Shit, sorry,” he said as he carefully removed himself from Cas’s lap. 

“I'm not sorry in the slightest.  Having you in my lap…well, let’s just say it was perfect, and…I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you have been cursing those masks for the last few chapters and hoping for their first kiss. I hope I was right and the wait was worth it.


	29. Dean and the Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on my draft for DCRB and kept mixing the two stories. I can honestly say that was the first time that ever happened to me. It's all corrected now. Hope you enjoy some emotional whiplash for Dean.

The door cracked open and a hand slid through holding a surgical mask.  “Is this supposed to be like the proverbial sock on the door?” Meg asked as she inched the door further open.  “And get your tongue out of my patient’s throat.  I’m coming in.” 

Dean sighed dramatically and laid his head on Cas’s chest.  “Twenty minutes.  All I wanted was twenty fucking minutes.”  Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s hair soothing some of his irritation.  His hand settled on the back of Dean’s neck massaging the tight muscles Meg seemed to inspire in the older Winchester.

“I don’t know why you let her irritate you so much.”

“Cas,” Dean whined, “she is the-” 

“Dean, Dean, Dean.  Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?” Meg scolded as she swept in the room with a smirk plastered on her face.  The smirk vanished quickly replaced by a hard set to her jaw and a pinched frown.  “Get out of the bed, Dean.”

Anger coursed through Dean’s body, joined by hints of shame.  It was only yesterday when Antonio and Dr. Bevell approached him about his penchant for crawling into Cas’s bed.  He had been caught a handful of times since Cas was moved out of the ICU.  The last time he had fallen asleep in Cas’s bed and received a very thorough reprimand from the doctor and the nurse.  Their admonishments fled from Dean’s consciousness the second Cas reached for him with a silent plea for contact.  Dean would never deny him contact, no matter how many times he got lectured over it.  “Shut up, Meg.”

“Dean be nice,” said Cas, holding Dean tighter.  “Meg, I asked him to lay with me.  Yesterday was hard on both of us.”  Leaning his head down, Cas kissed Dean on the top of his head.  “And please don’t ask.”  Dean looked up at Cas before turning to face Meg with an exaggerated pout. 

“Fine, I’ll give you five minutes.”  She turned on her heel and huffed as she exited the room.

“I wasn’t expecting her to agree so easily.”

Scoffing Dean responded, “She only did because you were the one asking.  If I tried, she’d have kicked my ass out the door.  I know she’s married to Rachel, but there is no way that woman doesn’t have a crush on you.  Speaking of which, where is the rest of your entourage.”

Cas rolled his eyes and shoved his chest into Dean, clearing a scant few inches between them.  “I do not have an entourage.”

“Oh yes you do, and they all have a crush on you, especially Julian.”  Dean tried to make it sound light and humorous, but it came out sounding jealous and bitter.  Embarrassed by his inability to hide even a modicum of his feelings, Dean buried his head in his hands and tucked himself up against Cas’s neck.  The touch of Cas’s fingers skimming along the base of his neck and over his shoulder sent a shiver running through his body.  Never in his life had a simple touch brought him nearly to tears while triggering his arousal.

Cas’s sincere, deep voice didn’t help either situation.  “I was always jealous of your partners.  You were so easy with them.  Easy with your affection.  I was never that way.  I kept everyone at bay.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Cas.  You and Julian…”

“We’ve only ever been friends.  He knew I was in love with you.”  Leaning down, Cas kissed Dean on the forehead.  “Why does this bother you so much?”

Dean shrugged, unsure of how to explain his feelings.  They were a jumble of confusion.  His head told him Julian was a good guy and good friend to Cas, but his heart balked at the idea.  “I don’t really know how to explain it.  I think about you being gone back then and how much I missed you.  And when I pictured you with him, even then, it bothered me.  I know he’s just a friend, but he could have been more.  He wanted more.”

“Maybe, that’s true, but all our interactions were clouded by my feelings for you.”

Shifting his legs, Dean turned and sat up.  “He told you to go, Cas.”

“He did.  And he wasn’t the only one.  They all wanted what was best for me.  Life here had become too painful.  They saw that.”

Those words were like a sledgehammer to Dean’s heart.  He was the one who knew Cas best.  They confided in each other, leaned on each other, and yet Dean didn’t see it.  He didn’t see how Cas was hurting.  “But I didn’t,” Dean whispered, voice laced with pain.

“I didn’t want you to see, Dean.  You carried enough on your shoulders already.”  Cas pulled on the back of Dean’s t-shirt.  “Meg will be back any second.  Please come back and cuddle with me.”

“I don’t cuddle,” huffed Dean.

“Liar,” retorted Cas as Dean lay back down against him.  They curled around each other as best they could, ever mindful of Cas’s injuries.  “You love being held.  You always have.”

“Only when it’s you doing the holding, Cas.”  Dean lifted his hand and cupped Cas’s face.  “I’m going to kiss you now.”  It was a slow, intense exploration.  Dean traced Cas’s lips before delving deeply into the heat of Cas’s mouth, tangling their tongues together.  His heart raced and his body clamored for more.  But as usual he found himself pulling back and pushing away from what he desired most.  “Dammit, Meg, you could knock.”

“I did, and I told you five minutes.”

Dean sighed heavily before planting two quick kisses on Cas’s swollen lips.  “Rehab room.  Here we come.  Yay,” he said flatly.

“You’re not the one who has to do the work.  Why are you complaining?” Cas asked with a chuckle.

“Because I have blue balls once again, and now I have to go watch you get all sweaty.  As if you aren’t sex personified already.”

Meg snorted.  “You don’t have to come.  I’m happy to take him all by myself.”

“Told you she has some weird crush on you.”

With a laugh, Cas gripped Dean by the back of the head and kissed him hard and fast.  “Better,” Cas asked when he finally pulled away leaving Dean breathless.

“No, that did not make it better you ass,” Dean pressed out between gasps for air.  When he got control of himself, he slipped off the bed and helped Cas into his wheelchair.  Meg did not bother trying to help anymore.  If Dean was in the room, everyone knew to let him handle moving Cas.  It was a routine now, and he appreciated that no one questioned it.  Not even Cas.  He let Dean care for him with only a few sarcastic marks slipped in when it got too suffocating.  Sam called it hovering, and Gabe called it smothering.  All three probably described his behavior at times, so Dean accepted the comments without argument. 

“Thank you, Dean,” said Cas.  Unfortunately for Dean, Cas thanking him had become part of the routine as well.  It always made him flush, and Cas always had to point it out in some way.  “What a lovely shade of pink.”

“Cas,” whined Dean.

Meg stepped over in front of Dean and looked up.  “Awww…he’s so cute with his ears all pink.”

Shaking his head, Dean pointed his finger at Cas.  “You just had to comment.  In front of her.”  He grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and pushed Cas out into the hall.  “I thought we had an appointment to keep, Nurse Ratched.”

“Wow, how long you been saving that one for?” asked Meg with a phony laugh.  They kept up their banter until they entered the rehab room.  As soon as they entered, Meg’s professionalism took over.  Dean never doubted her abilities.  He had watched her work with Cas from day one.  She pushed and prodded but never went beyond Cas’s limits.  “We need to work on your legs today.  I know you have a tendency to bury your head in the sand about this, Clarence, but not today.  Dr. Bevell showed me the latest info just this morning, feeling running the length of both limbs, movement in the right foot and leg.  And if you didn’t have that cast on your left leg, I’m sure we’d see some movement there as well.  So, buckle up because I am going to push you harder than ever.”  Dean was glad to hear here words because despite the improvements, Cas seemed despondent about his legs.  It was odd how they had traded places on the issue over the last weeks.  Dean was ever the optimist now, believing deep in his gut that Cas would recover fully and walk again, and Cas was the one who couldn’t find it in himself to hope. 

Meg was true to her word.  She worked Cas until he was drenched in sweat and irritable.  Most of his ire he directed at Dean and his attempts to cheer him on.  Dean brushed off the comments, knowing Cas did not mean them.  Besides, the more Dean cheered the harder Cas seemed to work, so it was worth a few insults and a raised voice here and there.  Cas eventually quieted down as he neared exhaustion. 

“Dean, come here,” Meg said just as the session was ending.  “Put your hand here.”  Dean did as directed, placing his hand under Cas’s right foot.  “All right, angel, push as hard as you can against his hand.”

The pressure on Dean’s hand was instantaneous and strong.  “Holy shit, Cas.  That’s fucking amazing.”

“Dean don’t read too much into this,” Cas responded flatly.

“Why not?  This is a big step.  Right, Meg?” 

The physical therapist nodded as she lowered Cas’s leg.  “It is.  Once that cast comes off, and they move you to a boot we can start the really fun stuff.”

When Cas remained silent, Dean interjected, “The orthopedist said the cast is coming off in couple of days.”

“You’re a fast healer, Clarence.  I like that.”

Cas rolled his eyes and gestured at Dean.  “We have an appointment with Naomi.  I’d like to clean up before we go.”

“All right your highness,” Dean said with a bow and a smirk. 

 

Sitting in Naomi’s office was nothing new for either of them, but today felt different to Dean.  Cas seemed unusually tense and was avoiding eye contact.  It was the opposite of his demeanor when they were snuggled up in bed earlier.  Even during physical therapy, Cas was constantly looking at Dean.  Glaring was more accurate, but that was better than the shifty avoidance tactics he was using as they waited for Naomi. 

When she arrived, she didn’t waste any time.  “Would you like to tell Dean why you requested this meeting, Castiel?”

“No, I would prefer if you would explain.”

“What the hell, Cas?  You didn’t tell me this was some special request.  What’s going on?”  Dean’s body felt tight and anxious.  He wanted to get up and pace the room but refrained, knowing Cas could not do the same when the urge over came him.  Holding firm to the armrests, he waited for an answer.

Still refusing to look at Dean, Cas shook his head.  “How about we talk about the last couple days?” suggested Naomi.  “I understand there was some difficulty.”

Sighing, Dean resigned himself to the fact Cas was not going to look at him or willingly share the details.  “Yeah, the day just sorta sucked all around.  I got in trouble for sharing Cas’s bed, and then we had a disagreement about my work.  While I was gone, Cas reviewed some of the footage for the documentary, and it hit him harder than expected.  And…” Dean paused to look up at the ceiling because he was embarrassed to relay the next part.  “And I didn’t come back at all yesterday.  I was tired from work and frustrated over our argument.  Cas had a rough night and didn’t sleep well.  I thought…” Dean trailed off with a shake of his head.  “It doesn’t matter what I thought.”

“Of course, it does, Dean,” stated Naomi. 

“Nah, I should have come back, and I shouldn’t have expected that this morning fixed it.”

“What happened this morning?”

Tired and emotionally drained, Dean shut down.  He didn’t want to share their whispered words or their hugs and kisses.  He didn’t want to talk about how Cas welcomed him onto the bed to hold each other.  If it had served no purpose, there was no reason to discuss it.

Naomi shifted her attention to Cas.  “Why did you and Dean argue about his work?”

“I don’t want Dean spending all his time here.  I want him to work.  He gave up teaching, but he can at least go to Bobby’s a few days a week.  He loves working there.  But every time I try to discuss it with him, he doesn’t want to hear it.  Yesterday, I finally told him to get out.  Sam was in the room and convinced him to go.  I wasn’t even sure he went to work until he showed up this morning.”

The itch under Dean’s skin had grown, and his fidgeting had become insurmountable.  He stood up and started pacing.  “Why do you get to decide?  We don’t need the money, and I want to be here.”

“Dean, please come back and sit down.”  Naomi waited until he reluctantly sat down.  “There are some larger issues underlying this disagreement.”

“Guilt,” muttered Cas.

“For starters.  I also think it has to do with fears related to abandonment and health.”

Those words hit home, and Dean’s eyes immediately went to Cas.  Wide blue eyes were staring back at him.  The eye contact was enough to quell Dean’s nerves.  It seemed to have a similar effect on Cas because his shoulders lost their rigidity.  “I hate how this has altered your life, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, I hated how mom’s illness affected yours, but you asked me back then to let you change your career and help with Sam and the bills, and I did, Cas.”

“I know, and I will always be grateful for that.”

Sliding his chair closer, Dean took hold of Cas’s hand.  “Then why can’t you let me be here for you.”

“I want you here, Dean.  You know that, but I also think you need a break sometimes.  Anyone would?”

Before Dean could answer, Naomi said, “Castiel has a point, Dean.  Sitting vigil is hard on both your mental and physical health.  You need an outlet and stimulation.” 

The pudge around Dean’s stomach and the bags under his eyes attested to the veracity of Naomi’s statement.  Sitting around in Cas’s room, waiting for appointments or while Cas slept, was dull at times and downright irritating at others.  The buzz under his skin was further proof of his need for more activity.  “Okay, I get it,” he conceded.  “But I am only agreeing to two days a week for now, and I promise to get some exercise.”

Cas’s lips quirked up slightly.  “Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” Dean said in a rush still staring into Cas’s eyes. 

Cas gripped Dean harder and took a deep breath.  “I would like to tell you why I wanted this session.”

“Okay.”

“This is hard for me.  All of this.  Having you and Sam giving up so much for me.  Being trapped in a bed and now in a wheelchair.  The fact that you had to renovate the house and that you’re planning to give up your room.  I feel this pressure to fix it, fix myself, especially now.”  Cas stopped and looked down at their joined hands. 

“Why now?” asked Dean quietly.

“Because you are so sure I will fully recover.  I remember what it was like.  You believed Mary would go into remission, and when she didn’t and she deteriorated a little every day, it broke you piece by piece.  All I could do was watch it happen and hold you when you shattered.  I don’t want you to face that again.  I don’t think I would be strong enough to help you this time because I have my own broken pieces.”

As Cas spoke, Dean tried to put himself in Cas’s shoes.  They were alike in a many ways, so it was relatively easy to understand the pressure Cas felt.  It was never Dean’s intention to be overly optimistic, and until recently he was quite pessimistic about Cas’s recovery.  A fact he had obviously hid well, the house being the one exception.  “I have been terrified about your recovery.  Downright negative about it at times, just ask Sam.  But I never wanted you to know that.  Maybe I laid on the upbeat attitude to thick, but even as I did that I prepared for the worst.  That’s why I changed the renovation plans to expand the room.  If you never walked again, our room would be ready.  I needed that reassurance.  I needed to know I was ready for whatever came.  But now, I have hope.  I believe.  You are making huge strides every damn day.  And you are the most determined person I have ever met, Cas.  You are a rock.  A superstar, and I have faith in you.  Faith in us.”

Tears flowed down Cas’s cheeks, and Dean could feel his own about to spill over.  He wanted to pull Cas to him and console him the way the older man had always done for him, but the wheelchair prevented it.  He settled for brushing Cas’s tears away.  “I have enough faith for the both of us.”

“I love you, Dean.  And I have always believed in you.”

“Good.”  Dean felt lighter.  The tears faded, and a smile took their place.  “By the way, I’m not giving up my bedroom.  I have no idea what you were thinking on that.  As soon as you’re out of this place, we’re not sleeping apart.  No matter what.  It will be our bedroom, and it will be wherever you need.  Understand?”

Cas grinned.  “Understood.”

Naomi had remained silent as they talked which Dean appreciated.  She had increasingly been giving them space to work through their issues as their communication skills improved.  A nudge here and a question there was often all they needed from her lately.  She cleared her throat, drawing their attention.  “Castiel, this would be a good time to discuss your status.  Right now, you are an inpatient with limited access.  Dr. Bevell is planning to clear you to leave the hospital for excursions which is the next step before you become an outpatient.  How do you feel about that?”

Dean thought Cas was desperate to get out of the hospital, so it shocked him to see worry etched on Cas’s face.  “Cas, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.  I have thought of little else these past weeks, but…”

“You feel safe here.  Inside these walls.  Some anxiety is to be expected,” said Naomi. 

Letting go of Dean’s hand, Cas angrily ran his hand through his hair.  “Fear is not something I have spent a lot of time on.  Even in a warzone I found ways to compartmentalize it.  So, why when I have pleaded for this opportunity, does the thought of going outside fill me with dread.”

“You’ve been through a major trauma and are still recovering,” responded Naomi.  “Not all injuries are easily seen.  I think what would be best is take some measured steps.  Riding the elevator, visiting another floor, eating in the cafeteria.  Then when you feel more comfortable you can venture outside.  And from there we can reassess where you should go next.”

Cas took hold of Dean’s hand again.  “That sounds acceptable.”

“Do you want to try today?” asked Dean.

“No,” said Cas, shaking his head.  “I want to go back to the room and curl up with you.”

“Works for me,” agreed Dean with a wink.  “I’m used to getting in trouble.  Just let me text Sammy, so he can keep your entourage away for a few more hours.”

Cas snorted.  “I don’t have an entourage, and maybe next session we should talk about your baseless jealousy.”

Standing up, Dean stepped behind Cas and looked at Naomi.  The psychologist was smirking at him with a knowing look in her eyes.  “Not you, too,” Dean barked.

“I have heard some gossip.”

“I woulda thought gossip was beneath you.”  Dean turned Cas’s wheelchair toward the door.  “And I am NOT jealous.”  Cas and Naomi both laughed loudly. 

“Bye, Naomi,” said Cas through his laughter.  Dean refused to stop and wait for her reply.  He quickly wheeled Cas back to his room and got him into the bed, crawling on and tucking himself into Cas’s side.

“Not jealous.  I just don’t like the way they look at you.”

Cas stroked Dean’s neck and upper spine.  “And how do they look at me?”

“Like they want to crawl in your lap.”

“Hmmm…but my lap belongs to you, Dean.

Dean lifted his head and stared intently at Cas.  “Damn right it does.”


	30. Uncharted Waters for Dean and Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments. Dean and Cas are crossing some barriers in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

The air was heavy with the distinctive smell of a cafeteria and the underlying smell of antiseptic.  It was slightly nauseating and made Cas gag a few times before he managed to quell the urge to vomit.  Every scent and sight irritated him after the episode outside.  He shook himself, trying to dispel the memory.  It helped no one when he lingered on his failures, least of all himself.  His mind, however, fought him at every turn, bringing to mind his panic and the careworn look on Dean’s face.  The man was exhausted and a bit broken.  Cas saw it at the edges of his lips, the slight frown, and in the deepening line between his eyebrows.  Dean tried, God, did he try to hide it, leaving Cas to wonder how much that effort compounded the issue.  They talked about it in therapy several times.  All Cas wanted was for Dean to let it go, but each time Cas panicked, Dean buried his own feelings.  He didn’t try to put on a fake smile or offer false hope, but he schooled his expression.  At least, this time they hadn’t been alone when it happened.  Having Charlie present helped, but it also tore at Cas.  She still struggled with visiting the hospital, and for her to witness a panic attack, a severe one at that, made Cas’s guilt skyrocket. 

“I see what you’re doing Cas, and I want you to stop it,” stated Charlie.  Her tone was firm and brooked no argument.  “I was prepared for what happened.  We all were.  It was a risk that was weighed and measured.  You knew there was a chance this would happen and so did I.  I chose to be here, so let whatever you’re thinking go.  We survived it.”

Thoughts of the panic attack flew through his mind.  The inability to breathe.  The darkness at the edges of his vision.  The hands on his shoulders.  The muffled voices which just couldn’t reach him.  The panic, ratcheting up as the struggle to breathe intensified.  And then the brush of lips on his forehead and the whispered words in his ear, bringing him back to the present.  The feel of the Impala’s hard steel at his back.  The rough texture of the concrete under his hand.  The pressure of his arm pressed tightly across his chest.  The light returning to his vision and the sight of green eyes staring at him wide with fear.  The pattern of breathing they shared as Cas finally settled.  Their foreheads resting together.  Dean wrapping his arms around Cas, holding him tight, telling him he was okay over and over. 

“That was the worst one yet,” he whispered.

“Cas, don’t.  We will just try another day,” Dean said as he entwined their fingers. 

“But I wanted to go home.  I want to see everyone away from this place.”

Dean sighed, squeezing Cas’s hand reassuringly.  “You will.  Just not today.  We’re going to eat a little something and then go to the apartment.  Charlie will go and talk to everyone.”

Leaning forward into Cas’s line of vision, Charlie added, “They will understand Cas.  No one thought this was a done deal.”

Dean nodded at Charlie before addressing Cas.  “I don’t know about you, but I would really like to eat a bunch of crap Rachel wouldn’t approve of.  I think we deserve a treat.”  Dean grinned as some light returned to his eyes.  “What do you say?” 

Cas couldn’t help but return the smile.  It loosened the last lingering effects of his panic, and he nodded.  Dean was off like a shot, returning with a tray laden with salty snacks and sweets.  Not one item on the tray would be approved by his dietician.  Between the three of them, they managed to eat it all.  When they were done, they split up.  Charlie headed back to Lawrence, and Dean and Cas headed to the apartment.  The sun was shining brightly, warming Cas’s face.  He missed it the second they entered the apartment complex.  A familiar voice greeted them, bringing him a different kind of warmth. 

“Good to see you out of the hospital.”  Donna ran her eyes over his face, appraising him as she spoke.  “Didn’t quite go as planned I hear.”

“No, it did not.”  Cas glared at Dean, realizing he must have contacted Donna and wondering who else he told.

Dean ducked his head, stepped around Cas’s wheelchair, and opened the apartment door.  “Let’s talk inside.”  The three of them entered the small living space, and Dean rounded on Cas.  “I texted her, okay.  I was fucking scared, and I texted her because she knows…she knows what this is like, Cas.  We need her.”

“Dean, please sit down and take a breath,” said Donna.  It took a few seconds for Dean to comply, but when he did sit, it seemed as if all the fight left his body.  “There is no shame in asking for help.  I know sometimes you want to keep this to yourself, but Dean did the right thing.  If Naomi could be here, she would say the same.  Ignoring your PTSD is a recipe for disaster.  We need to discuss what happened.  I have worked with many soldiers over the years, and the ones that accept it and ask for help fare better than those who don’t.”

Tension flowed through Cas’s body and his hands trembled.  Clasping them together in his lap halted the full body shiver he knew was forthcoming.  “Don’t you see.  That’s the issue.  I’m tired of all the help and the lack of privacy.  And I know part of that is my fault because I decided to make a documentary.”  He paused for a moment trying to figure out how to say the next part tactfully.  “I have so many people involved in my care.  Rachel, Meg, Antonio, Dr. Bevell, Dr. Banes, Naomi, you,” he looked pointedly at Donna, “and all the other staff that come in to check on me constantly throughout the day and night.  Between that and the revolving door of visitors and those filming, I am never alone.  Sam’s been hovering like crazy lately, and shit, Dean, you never take a break.  When you’re not at work, you’re always fucking there.”  Cas knew he failed in his delivery by the look of utter devastation on Dean’s face.  “Dean…”

“Nope, don’t bother, Cas.  I heard you loud and clear,” stressed Dean as he stood and walked to the door.  The quiet click of the door was almost worse than if Dean had slammed it. 

“Dammit.”  Cas stared at his hands, unable to look up and see the disappointment in Donna’s eyes.  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did,” Donna said flatly.  “Privacy is important to you, Cas.  There is nothing wrong with needing it and missing it.  I think the issue is how you are handling it.  Snapping at Dean fixes nothing, and I think you know that.”

Taking a deep breath, Cas raised his head.  “I do, but…”

“He’s the easiest target.”

Shaking his head, Cas sighed, “Fuck, what kind of person does that make me.  Punishing the one person I have total faith in.  The man I love who I know loves me with all his heart.”

Donna stood up and crossed the small space between them, dropping to her knees next to his wheelchair.  “Human is what it makes you.  We’ve all been guilty of taking our frustrations out on those closest to us.  I think the real test is what you do after.  Take some time and think about it.”

“All right.”  Cas patted the hand Donna had resting on the arm of his chair. 

With a quick pat in return, Donna stood and took a seat across from Cas.  “Now, since Dean is gone, how about we talk a bit more about your panic attack.”

“I don’t know what more there is to say.  I panicked again.  I had a flashback to the explosion when Dean tried to help me in the car.  Flailed so badly that I ended up on the ground leaning against the Impala.  I scraped my hand, bruised my back, and took a long time to calm down enough to breathe.”

After a brief pause, Donna’s contemplative expression shifted into a knowing smile.  “I have an idea.  I think it would really help you, so hear me out before you object on principle.”  Cas laughed lightly at her choice of words while nodding for her to continue.  “Bobby and I started this program at the shelter for vets struggling with their return home.  They come and work with the animals, share time with each other, offering support and understanding.  And I think you would fit right in with them.  Some are physically injured like you and all are suffering from some form of PTSD.”

“I’m not a soldier.”

“I knew that you would get hung up on that.”

“Well, it is a fact.”

“Maybe, but your shared experience unites you with them even if you aren’t a vet.  You were injured in a warzone, Castiel, there is no denying that fact.  Promise me you will at least think about it.”

“Fine.”

 

************

 

“That fucking hurt,” Dean whispered to the empty hallway.  He knew he needed a little distance after listening to Cas, but he felt like shit for walking out the door.  Being apart from Cas on his first real trip out of the hospital just felt wrong.  Having a door separating them was nausea inducing.  Dean shook his head.  _Quit being so dramatic_ , he thought.  _Take a breath and calm down.  Let Donna talk to him._   He pushed himself off the wall and walked down the hall and out the main door.  His feet seemed to have a mind of their own as he wandered down the sidewalk.  He found himself in the small garden, dropping down onto the stone bench.  The soothing sounds of the fountain eased some of his anxiety.  There were days this was the only place he found solace.  Understanding dawned as he sat facing the sun with his eyes tightly closed.  Privacy.  It was here in abundance.  Dean had yet to meet anyone in this space.  If he needed moments of peace and quiet, surely Cas needed them.  At least Dean could escape the hospital at times.  Between work and his trips to the apartment, Dean had time to himself, even if it was only for a short respite.  Cas was never allowed the same.  And Dean contributed to that.  _Selfish_ , he thought.  It never occurred to him Cas needed space, but it should have.  Dean knew Cas.  He understood him, and one thing Cas always valued was time to reflect.

“Dammit,” Dean said, running his hand down his face in frustration.  “You suck as a boyfriend.”

“Dean.”

Dean clutched a hand to his chest as he jumped in surprise.  “Julian, you scared the crap out of me.”

Holding up his hands, Julian walked toward Dean.  “Sorry.”

“What are you doing here?  How did you find me?”

With a slight shrug of his shoulders, Julian responded, “I followed you.”

“You followed me?  Aren’t you supposed to be at the house with everyone else?  How the hell did you follow me?”

Gesturing at the bench, Julian asked, “Mind if I sit?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Charlie texted me before she left the hospital.  She was a bit shook up and wanted someone to check on you and Cas.  Sam was going to come, but he was on the phone with Sophie, so here I am.”  With a heavy sigh, Dean dropped his head and stared at his feet.  “When I got out of the car, I spotted you.  No offense but you looked like you could use a friend.”

Dean chuckled darkly.  “Is that what we are now?”

“I would like us to be.”

“Why?”  Dean lifted his gaze when Julian gripped his shoulder.

With a deeply solemn expression and a touch of hope in his eyes, Julian answered, “Because we both love him.  I know that bothers you, but it shouldn’t.  He always belonged to you even if you were too blind to see it.”

“Jesus, do you guys have a club or something, because Sophie said almost the same thing?”

“Ahh…she told you.  I’m surprised.”

Dean shook his head.  “No, I guessed, and she didn’t deny it.”

“Cas is a remarkable man, Dean.  You know that better than anyone.  The sacrifices he is willing to make, the risks he takes.”

“Yeah, look where that got him,” Dean said bitterly.

Julian stared at Dean until their eyes connected once again.  “Dean, he is who he is, and you love him for it.”

“I fucking know that, but it doesn’t make any of this easier.  He’s in there right now angry at me, at the world.  Desperate for some normalcy.  I can’t help him, and it’s killing me.”

“That’s bullshit.  You help him.  You ease his mind.  You make him smile.  He lights up around you, Dean.  I don’t know what he said to you today to get you on this train of thought, but he doesn’t mean it.  He needs you, and he loves you.  Don’t let him push you away.”

Closing his eyes, Dean took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  “I promised him I wouldn’t.”

“Good.  Is there anything I can do?  Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Nah, Donna’s got that covered.  I was planning on sitting here until she gave me the all clear.”

“I can wait with you if you want.”

Dean shrugged.  “Yeah, okay.”

 

************

 

The door shut behind Donna, and Cas sat in silence.  The privacy he had craved suddenly didn’t feel so necessary.  He missed Dean.  Missed his steady presence and his bright smile.  “I’m an idiot.” 

“Only on Mondays and Thursday mornings.”

Cas snapped his head up and ran his eyes over Dean.  “You came back.”

“Course I did.  This is my apartment after all,” Dean chuckled and winked dramatically.

“Dean, I’m so sorry.  I -”  Cas stopped abruptly when Dean held up his hand.

“Sunshine, you don’t need to apologize.  I know you were just venting, and it’s okay.  We all need to do that at times.  I do that when I come here.  I cry and scream into my pillow.  Ask Sam.  I can be ridiculously annoying.”

Cas’s face fell and his eyes went wide.  “You cry?”

“That is not what you were supposed to focus on in that stream of words, Cas.  But yeah, I cry.  Keeping it together is too damn hard sometimes.  It’s better now that we talked about not putting on a happy front, but it still happens.  I hate seeing you in pain.”

“And I hate seeing you so sad and exhausted.”

Dean crossed the room and sat down next to Cas.  “Hmmm…what should we do about that.”

“What do you mean?” asked Cas with a confused expression.

“Well, I was thinking.  Here we are alone.  With no chance of being interrupted.”

A shiver ran down Cas’s spine, and he whispered, “And a real bed.” Dean stood up and looked longingly down the hall.  “Sweetheart take me to bed,” Cas implored, a hint of desperation in his deep voice.

“Fuck,” said Dean as his hands found the back of Cas’s chair.  “You sure?”

“Yes, Dean.” 

There was no rush as Dean pushed him down the hall, removed the boot from Cas’s left leg, and lifted him onto the bed.  Several seconds later the bed dipped.  The touch of a hand on his hip made Cas inhale sharply.  His eyes found Dean’s, and he got lost in them.  There lips met in a brief kiss.  Dean’s tongue swept across his bottom lip as they pulled apart.  Cas sighed, dropping his mouth open in invitation.  There was no hesitation when Dean leaned in and kissed him.  Heat pooled low in his stomach as the kiss deepened.  Want flooded his body.  “Dean, please,” Cas said as he tugged on Dean’s shirt.  Breaking the kiss, Dean pulled off the garment and reached for Cas’s shirt.  His entire body locked up at the contact. 

“Cas, I’ve seen it all.  Please, sunshine, let me.  I want to touch you.”

The next few moments were spent somewhere between fear and desire.  Cas wanted to touch Dean.  He wanted Dean to touch him, so he had to force his fear away and give into the desire.  He loosened his arms, allowing Dean to lift his shirt and slowly pull it off.  Dean ran his hands over Cas’s body while he clung to the younger man’s shoulder with his right hand.  When Dean lowered his mouth to kiss along his chest, Cas finally let his own hand wander.  He swept it over Dean’s shoulders and down his back, enjoying the feel of the shifting muscles.  As he settled both hands on Dean’s lower back, his body arched in pleasure.  “Don’t stop,” he whispered as Dean’s tongue swept over his nipple. 

“Don’t worry, Cas, I’ll take care of you.”  He touched and kissed Cas, whispering words of love as he went.  “You are so beautiful,” he said, sweeping his eyes over Cas’s body.  Slowly, he brought his hands to Cas’s pants.  It was a wordless request, but Cas understood.  He nodded and lifted his hips.  Gently, Dean removed Cas’s pants before dealing with his own.  They each took a moment to drink in the sight of the other.  Cas needed to touch, breaking the moment when he brushed his hand down Dean’s stomach.  Dean moaned as Cas’s fingers grazed his cock. 

“Oh, shit, that feels good.”

“Dean, I…”  Cas’s voice faded away.

“What, Cas?  What do you need?”

Cas shook his head, unsure of how to answer.  Dean cupped his cheek and kissed him delicately.  When they separated, Cas said, “I need to feel you.” 

With a subtle shift, Dean hovered over Cas, sliding one leg between Cas’s thighs.  “This okay?”

“Yes,” breathed Cas.

“No pain?” asked Dean.  Cas pulled him closer.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”  Lowering himself inch by inch, Dean brought their bodies together.  He rolled his hips, watching Cas intently.  Cas slid his hand down Dean’s back as he rocked his own hips in response.  He brought his left hand up to run it along Dean’s jaw, wincing at the sight of his damaged skin.  “Hey, hey, Cas.  Stay with me,” pleaded Dean.  Cas managed to stop staring at his hand and looked at Dean.  “There you are.”

“I’m here, Sweetheart,” Cas whispered as he wiped a stray tear off Dean’s cheek.  “Kiss me.  Touch me.”  And Dean did.  Cas didn’t know how much time passed, but he relished every moment as Dean lovingly took him apart.  The experience brought Cas to tears when he finally succumbed.  Rocking slowly, they both spilled over Dean’s hand, seconds apart.  “I love you, Dean,” Cas uttered as he tried to catch his breath.  “Always.”

“Always,” responded Dean.  He lifted his head and stared down at Cas, brushing his fingers along Cas’s cheek.  “Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” 

Dean smiled and closed the distance between them.  He buried his face in Cas’s neck with a pleased huff.

“Although,” said Cas.  Dean went rigid until Cas added, “We should probably get cleaned up.”

“Jackass,” mumbled Dean, nipping at Cas’s skin.  Taking his time cleaning Cas up, Dean made sure to check every inch of his wounds.  A tension prickled under Cas’s skin at the close scrutiny, but the tenderness in Dean’s touch eased the feeling.  As Dean finished, he placed a kiss on Cas’s collarbone and laid back down. 

“I had begun to wonder if we would ever get here, especially after this last week.”

Dean trailed his fingers down Cas’s chest, settling his hand on his stomach.  “Cas, you are stronger than you think.  And this, from the first moment we kissed, was always on the horizon.”

Lifting Dean’s chin, Cas kissed him firmly.  “I suppose it was.”


	31. Sam is an Adult

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it always amazes me to see the number of subscribers increase. Thanks to all of you. Sorry it took so long for me to respond to comments this week. I always appreciate reading your feedback.

“Gabe, stop filming and step out.”

Still recording, Gabe said, “That is not your call, Samsquatch.  I don’t care how many times you try and order me out I’m staying until bossman over there says different.” 

Sam watched Gabe give a perfunctory nod at Cas, clearly waiting for his signal on the matter.  Cas closed his eyes with a sigh.  “Give us a minute.”  As if his strings were cut, Gabe dropped the camera and flounced out of the room.  “Seriously, you could have just listened to me,” snapped Sam, glaring at Gabe’s back.

“No can do, Cas pays the bills.”

Frustrated, Sam shook his head and muttered under his breath, “He’s an even bigger dick than usual these days.”

“I thought you and Gabe were pretty good friends, Sam.  You should give him a break.  Ever since Carlos left, he’s been filming pretty much on his own.  He’s just as tired as the rest of us.  Now, why don’t we stop talking about him, and you can get to the point.”

With a heaviness in his chest, Sam took the seat next to Cas and hesitated because the point he was about to make would not be received well.  Delaying it wasn’t really an option either.  The boundless patience Cas used to display when Sam was growing up had vacated the building over the last month.  His overarching anger was gone, but he had little time for small talk, diversions, or prevarication.  When Sam made eye contact, he could see the increasing irritation in Cas’s eyes, so he got to the proverbial point.  “I don’t think this is the right approach.  Dean would want to be here, and he’s going to be pissed we tricked him.  And there is no reason to film this again.”

“And what if I succeed.  What if I don’t panic, and we get in the car and ride home.  What then?”

“Then we reenact it.”

Cas scoffed, slamming his good hand onto the arm of his chair.  “I am not making a reality show.  This is a documentary.  How could you even suggest such a thing?”

“Because I hate this documentary.  I hate watching the footage.  I hate seeing you panic over and over.”

Cas’s eyes softened.  “Sam…”

“No, Cas, I’m sorry.  It’s not my place.”

“Of course, it’s your place.  We’re family, and this affects us all.  I have spent the last years of my life telling other people’s stories, showing images of their darkest moments.  It was not an easy choice for me to expose myself to the same, but I’m glad I did.  Besides, Dean kicks them out enough for the both of you.”

Sam stood up and walked to the window.  “I like how they listen to Dean, but with me they completely ignore my requests.”

“To be honest,” smirked Cas, “it’s really only Gabe who ignores you.  And I think it’s mostly to get a rise out of you.”

“Like I said he’s a bigger dick these days.”  Turning around to face Cas, Sam decided to let the argument go.  “Fine, we film it, but we still haven’t talked about Dean.”

Cas quickly looked away and fidgeted in his seat.  His legs shifted right along with his body.  It was more movement than Sam had been privy to witness, but he squashed his desire to ask about it.  When Cas settled, he said, “It’s selfish, and I know he’s going to be upset, but I don’t want to see the haunted look on his face if I have another flashback.”

The statement left little room for argument, so Sam stated, “Let’s get this over with then.”  Gesturing to the door, he added, “I’ll follow you.”  Gabe was waiting outside the door, camera at the ready, with Antonio at his side.  The ride in the elevator was familiar as was the tension surrounding them.  It didn’t dissipate as they exited the elevator or as they exited the hospital.  “I could have drove the car up here.”

Cas glanced up at Sam.  “No, we tried that already, and I could do without the audience.” 

“And Naomi suggested we change up the circumstances,” added Antonio.  “No need to recreate the moment of his panic attack.”

Once they were next to the used sedan Sam had purchased after several arguments with Dean, Sam unlocked the doors and climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Gabe and Antonio with Cas.  They hoped Sam’s presence in the vehicle would help Cas focus on the present and not drift into memories of the explosion.  The more time that passed without Cas getting in the car the more Sam’s nerves increased.  When the passenger door finally opened, he plastered on a smile before remembering Cas hated false emotions, so he quickly dropped the act.  Within moments, a smile was back on his face, and this time it was genuine.  “Hey, Cas,” Sam said.  The look on Cas’s face wasn’t exactly relaxed, but there was no outward sign of panic as he got in the passenger seat. 

“Hello, Sam.  Let’s go home,” Cas responded.

 

Pulling into the driveway, Sam’s nerves returned, wondering how Cas would react to the changes.  The house had gone through several iterations since Cas left for Syria.  Some Cas had seen during video chats, so Sam figured those at least would not come as a surprise.  The ramp and renovations, however, were only plans in Cas’s mind.  “You ready,” he asked as the car came to a stop.

“Yes,” Cas answered with a tight smile.

“That wasn’t exactly a resounding affirmation,” huffed Gabe from the back seat. 

Sam turned to face him.  “I thought you were supposed to be a silent witness.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes it’s hard to keep my mouth shut.  Cassie, here, is my friend and I have a right to worry about him, too.”

Properly chastised, Sam apologized, “Sorry, I guess I forget that when you’re filming.”

“It’s all right.  I get it.”

“If you two are done, I could use my wheelchair,” interjected Cas.

Sam snapped his head around and reached for the door handle.  “Shit, sorry.  I’ll get it.”  In a rush, Sam got out of the car and retrieved the chair from the trunk.  By the time he had the chair set up, Cas had his door open and was in position to get himself out of the car.  Sam stepped back knowing Cas got irritated if he was offered help before he made an attempt on his own.  That concept applied to most situations since Cas was moved from the ICU and had started venturing around the hospital.  Once Cas was seated in his chair, Sam went to unlock the house.  He could feel Gabe and Cas making their way up the ramp behind him.

“I was thinking,” Sam said, as he swung the door open, “that you should wait until Dean gets here to look at your room.”

Cas smiled at Sam and then glanced around the room.  As he took in his surroundings, he remained silent.  It was a long time before he spoke.  “Gabe stop filming.”  More silence followed his request.  Cas moved through the living room and into the kitchen.  When he looked back over his shoulder, he said, “We’re not going to film here.”

“All right,” said Gabe as he set the camera on the coffee table.  “Do you want me to delete the footage I have from today and our walkthrough of the renovations?”

Cas smiled at Sam.  “Yes, our home is not for public consumption.” 

“In that case, I’m going to take off for a few hours.  Mind if I borrow your car, Sam.”  Without a second thought, Sam tossed the keys to Gabe.  “Text me when I need to come back,” Gabe said as he walked out the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sam dropped down onto the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.  Despite the changes and the smell of fresh paint, the lingering scents of home surrounded him.  After basking in the familiarity for a few heartbeats, he looked over at Cas.  His friend had wheeled himself in front of the back door and was looking out the window.  The only way Sam could describe the look on Cas’s face was longing.  Longing for something he had missed.  Longing for something just out of reach.  It was a look Sam knew well.  Cas had worn it for years when he looked at Dean.  Trying to ascertain what was eliciting the look now, Sam leaned forward, following Cas’s sight line.  The old maple tree.  Not surprising if Sam thought about it.  Cas often found solace under the canopy of that tree.  “Do you want to go out there?”

Shaking his head, Cas turned away from the door.  “Maybe later.  Right now, there is something I want to talk to you about.”

“Okay,” said Sam as he walked over and sat down in a kitchen chair.  “What is it?”

“You have been hovering quite a bit lately.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders even as he tipped his head in a slight nod.  “It’s not that long until I have to leave, so yeah, I want to spend my time with you and Dean.  I agreed to go back to school for fall term, but what I do now is my choice.”

“I know, Sam.  I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do.  I just want you to know we will be all right.  I will be okay.  I am okay.  So, when it’s time for you to go back to Stanford, you don’t need to leave half of yourself here, worrying about us.”

“That will be easier said than –”  Sam cut himself off at the sound of the Impala.  The rumble and roar of its engine, the creak of the steel hinges, and the slam of the heavy door.  “Shit.  I thought Bobby was going to give us a heads up.”  Before Sam finished speaking, his brother was standing in the shadow of the open front door.  “Uh…hey, Dean.”

“Sam, what the hell?  You’re supposed to be with Cas.”  Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket.  “The appointment with Rachel,” Dean said as he turned his phone to face Sam, displaying the time.

“About that,” Sam said as he stood up and took a step aside, revealing Cas.  “We may have fibbed a little.”  After the initial shock, several emotions flashed across his big brother’s face.  Anger and hurt surged to the surface more than once, but joy was also heavily present.  Sam waited for Dean to settle on one, ready for the inevitable dressing-down, but Cas had other ideas. 

“Hello, Dean.  I’d like to see our room.  Will you show me?”

Dean’s expression shifted immediately to one of love and concern for Cas.  Whatever he was feeling over the manipulation disappeared in the wake of Cas’s request.  “Yeah, I can do that, Sunshine.”  As he led Cas toward the newly renovated bedroom, he glanced over his shoulder.  “Don’t think any of you are off the hook, Sammy.  We’ll be right back and then we are talking about this.”

Sam’s mind drifted as he a stared at the empty space where his brother and Cas had been until Bobby touched his shoulder.  “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” answered Sam.

“I know you think they’ll dismiss you out of hand, but you need to give them a chance.  It will take some convincing but they’ll eventually get it.  And if they respond like complete idjits, I’ll set ‘em straight.”

Releasing a sigh, Sam said sincerely, “Thanks for this Bobby.  I know we don’t know each other well-”

Bobby held up his hand.  “None of that.  When Red calls and says it’s an emergency involving those to morons, I know to follow her orders.”

“Charlie can be scary when she wants to be,” chuckled Sam.

“Ain’t that the truth.  But she didn’t really need to use her powers this time.  Those two need to learn how to get out of their own way, and I understand that better than most.  Let’s hope a little advice from a grumpy old man works.”  Bobby steered them over toward the kitchen table.  “How bout you get me something to drink?”

Drinks in hand they made small talk until Dean entered the kitchen announcing, “All right, now, who wants to tell me whose brilliant idea it was to bring Cas home without me.”

“Dean, I already told you it was my idea.”

“Yeah, Cas, but that doesn’t absolve everyone else, especially you, Sam.”

Taking a deep breath, Sam said, “I know, but it worked.  He’s here with no flashbacks or panic attack.  Isn’t that what matters?”

Dean’s anger deflated.  “Yeah.  Get me a drink and I’ll forgive you.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he stood to comply with Dean’s request.  With his back to the table, he said, “There is something I need to talk to you two about.”  Turning back around, he saw the apprehensive look Cas and Dean were exchanging. 

Before he could deflect them from whatever train of thought they were on Dean said, “A load of crap always follows those words, and I’m not in the mood for any more shit today, Sam.”

“Now you listen here,” Bobby said, slamming his hand down on the table, “The kid has something important to discuss with you, and you are going to listen to every damn word without interruption.”

“Yes, sir,” said Dean with a mock salute.

Cas pulled Dean’s arm down.  “Dean.  Be nice.”

“Fine.  Spill it Sam.”

Steeling himself, Sam sat down and gripped the edge of the table.  “You’re right Dean.  You’re not going to like what I have to say.  I’m sure it’s going to piss you off, and I know Cas is going to object, but I am an adult, and you are both going to have to accept my decision.”

Oh, here, we go with the adult bu-”

“Dean Winchester what did I say about keeping your trap shut.”

Dean threw his hands in the air before pretending to zip his mouth shut.

Nodding at Bobby, conveying his thanks, Sam continued, “Gabe was more than willing to explain the financial situation with the production.  You could have told me you agreed to pay half the production costs to keep total creative control.  And I know about the second mortgage, Dean.  I know you somehow managed to take one out without consulting me.  Charlie wouldn’t tell me how you managed to do it without my consent since I own half this house, but she dropped enough hints for me to find out about the loan.”  Both Dean and Cas let out a soft groan, eyeing each other with equally suspicious expressions.  Sam ignored their responses for now.  “I want to help.  With my scholarship paying for school, I don’t need my college fund.  There is a substantial amount of money in it.  More than enough to pay off the second mortgage and help with the production costs.”

“No way, not a chance,” said Dean.

“That is your money, Sam.  Solely for your use,” added Cas.

“Exactly.  It’s my money, and I can spend it anyway I like.  And this is what I want to do.  I own a portion of this home so I should get a say.”

Dean shook his head.  “Yeah, well, that’s not true.”

“Bullshit, of course I should get a say.”

“That’s not what Dean meant.”  Cas reached out and covered Sam’s hand.  “We should have told you sooner, and I’m sorry for that, but you are not part owner of the house.”  Sam’s mouth dropped open, utterly shocked and dismayed.

“Cas bought out your half years ago.  You didn’t need to be tied to this house, and we both thought you would be better served having liquid assets.”

Understanding dawned.  Sam looked between his brother and his friend.  “That’s why my college fund is so large.  It wasn’t some amazing investment Charlie made.  You lied.  About everything.”

“Not everything.  Don’t sell Charlie short,” smirked Dean.  “Her investments have definitely paid off.”

“Dean, this isn’t funny.  After all we’ve been through lately, I thought I earned the right to be treated as an adult.  What I do with my money is not up to you or Cas.”

Pushing back from the table, Dean created some distance between them.  “You’re right.  You’re an adult, but we’re still not taking your money.  That’s our right.”

“Dean and I are only looking out for your best interests, Sam.  We want you to have financial stability.  It’s why we made the choices we have over the years,” added Cas.

An old trucker hat hit the center of the table, drawing everyone’s attention.  “Is this what they’re always like?”  Sam nodded.  “I see why Charlie called for my assistance.  You two stubborn mules need to get your heads out of your asses and see what’s right in front of you.  When I was Sam’s age, I was serving my country.  Stationed overseas.  No one questioned my status as an adult.  I got married.  Lost my wife to an undiagnosed heart condition all before I was twenty-one, and you want to deny this man the simple right of helping support his family.  I traveled that road after my wife’s death.  Never asking for help.  No matter how far down the rabbit hole I got.  My family watched my life deteriorate right before their eyes.  I made my life harder.  I made their lives harder.  For what?  Pride, vanity, stubbornness.  The need to be a man.  I was a fool.  You have a support system around you.  You’ve opened the door to help from friends and virtual strangers.  Why is Sam any different?”

With his jaw hanging open, Sam stared at Bobby, lost completely in the miasma of information disclosed in the man’s diatribe.  His eyes eventually flew to his brother seeing a similar reaction on his face.  Cas, however, seemed less shocked by the news.  There was a solemnness to his expression as he took in the older man.  “You never speak of Karen,” Cas said cautiously.

“And we are not discussing her now.  I only brought it up to illustrate a point.  Look at your own lives at Sam’s age if my life isn’t example enough.  I have said my peace what you do with it is entirely up to you.”  Bobby picked up his hat and stood to go.  “Now, where is my ladder so I can load it up and go?”

“Well at least there was some truth to your ruse to get me here,” said Dean as he pointed to the backyard.  “It’s leaning against the back wall.”

Scoffing, Bobby walked over and yanked open the back door.  “I expect you at work as usual tomorrow.  Today doesn’t get you out of it.” 

“You got it boss,” said Dean as Bobby stepped outside.  As soon as the door shut, Dean rounded on Sam.  “Are you serious?  How many more people have you involved in our private business?  And why couldn’t Charlie just come speak for herself?”

“Dean, please, calm down.  Yelling at Sam isn’t going to solve anything,” Cas cautioned as he laid a hand on Dean’s arm.  “Charlie is my friend, but she is also my employee.  It’s not easy telling your boss things they don’t want to hear.  No matter how close you are.”  With a small smile, Cas turned to Sam.  “I forget sometimes how much you’ve grown since I first met you.  I still feel responsible for you.  It was a promise I made to Mary, and I guess I am having difficulty adjusting it to the man you are today.  And I believe Dean is having a similar problem.  So why don’t you tell us why this is so important to you?”

Dean looked ready to explode despite Cas’s calming touch and words, so Sam didn’t hesitate.  “You have given me unconditional love.  Parented me when you were not nearly old enough to shoulder such a responsibility.  I am the man I am today because of you.  My successes are your successes.  The way I see the world.  What I want to do with my life and career are reflections of the lessons you taught me and continue to teach me.  Money is a small sacrifice to make for the dedication and devotion you have both shown me.  I love you and seeing you struggle when I have access to an easy solution is not acceptable to me.  Cas, you said this money is mine.  Dean, you said I am an adult.  So, let me be one.  Let me make the choice to take care of my family.”

A shadow passed over Dean’s face, and Sam braced for his refusal, but instead his older brother said, “Can you give us a minute, Sammy?”  Nodding Sam stood up and left the room, heading toward the stairs.

“You know he’s just going to eavesdrop.”

“Yeah, Cas, I know, but I just needed a moment.” 

Sam leaned against the railing, feeling only a tiny bit guilty for eavesdropping. 

“I’m not ready for him to be all grown up.  Him leaving for college tore me up enough already.”

“Dean, sweetheart, Sam isn’t going anywhere.  I think that’s part of the point he’s trying to make.  He wants to be involved even when he can’t physically be here to give his support.”

There was a heavy sigh, followed by the sound of kissing.  “I hate how reasonable you are all the time.”

“Not how I would describe myself since…”  Cas’s voice faded and Sam lost the thread of their conversation as whispered words passed between Dean and Cas.  Sam decided it was time to give them some privacy and climbed the stairs.  Emerging from his bedroom a half hour later, he bounded down the stairs.  The living room and kitchen were empty, but he caught movement in the backyard.  The sight of his brother completely wrapped up in Cas’s arms was not new these days, but it was always special.  He wondered if he would ever find a love like theirs.  Shaking himself out of his daydreams, he opened the backdoor and stepped out to join them.  “Hello, Sam.”

“Cas, I hate to interrupt, but we are due back at the hospital in a little over an hour.  Meg won’t be happy if you’re late again.”

Cas waved off his concerns and gestured at Dean, mouthing something Sam could not decipher.  With a huff, Dean said, “It’s your money.  Do what you want with it?”  His tone was gruff and his face was hard, but there was a touch of softness in his eyes and that was enough. 

Sam crossed the distance between them, pulling his brother into a hug before doing the same to Cas.  “Love you both.”

“We love you, too, Sam,” responded Cas.


	32. A Step Forward for Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments. Hope you enjoy this one!

The wait seemed interminable, and Cas began to pace, or the approximation of it in his wheelchair.  Discussions and decisions were being made and it irritated him to no end that they were mostly being done without him.  After his initial input, he was left to wait and wonder, and he had no idea why.  Well, he had some idea, but the explanations left much to be desired, no matter who delivered the reasons.  Cas had reverted to snapping at those who approached him.  Naomi first and foremost among them.  It was her initial denial which delayed the whole situation to begin with, and Cas did not hold back his displeasure during his last therapy session.  Intellectually he knew his panic attack and subsequent fall were the impetus for the delay.  Dr. Bevell had said as much when Naomi called her in to consult, reminding Cas about the consequences of reinjuring his left hand when it smacked the doorframe of the Impala.  Biting his bottom lip, Cas tried to forget that little fact, or not so little if he was being honest.  Damaging the most recent graft was a setback, leading to surgery number six or was it seven or eight.  He guessed it depended on when he started counting.  Frustration boiled to the surface as he stopped to stare at the door, willing it to open.  After several seconds, he huffed loudly and resumed his pacing.  His eyes caught on the camera lens.  He knew Gabe was biting his tongue, trying not to intervene. 

Keeping his eyes turned away, Cas said, “Just say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Bullshit.  You hate pacing.”

Gabe chuckled, “Yeah, but that’s only because Dean does it constantly.  Where is he anyway?  I can’t believe he’d leave you alone for this.”

Cas shifted his gaze to the camera.  “Before I was told about all this, I sent him home to rest.”

“You know he’s going to pissed you didn’t call him to come back.”

“I know, but there isn’t anything he could do except join me in pacing.”

Setting the camera aside, Gabe sat down on the couch.  “What about the moose?”

“I sent him to pack up the apartment.”

“Isn’t that wishful thinking?”

Sighing heavily, Cas glared at Gabe.  “No, I am going home.”

With a smile, Gabe said, “The power of positive thinking.”

“If that’s what it takes to get me home then yes.”

Gabe leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.  “Cas, you’ve always had amazing patience, but now it’s as if your skin is crawling.  While we’ve been talking, you haven’t even stopped rolling around the room like a caged animal.”

The fact Gabe used Cas instead of some other annoying nickname and his subsequent words halted Cas’s movement, and his eyes dragged over his legs before focusing on the wall in front of him.  He didn’t need Gabe to tell him about how he had changed.  He lived with it every day.  Impatience, irritation, anger, panic, fear, an overall feeling of malaise.  It was all new and did not fit with the man who had stepped into a parental role without a backward glance, calmly handled the issues of a teenager, planned and organized every aspect of his life, nor was it like the man who snuck into countries with false papers and ran toward gunfire.  The thought of who he had become, triggered his worries.  Ones which plagued him in the dark of night.  Was he so different that the man Dean loved was gone?  Was he so different he could no longer work or shoulder responsibility?  It was just another fear, joining all the others since the explosion.  And Cas hated it.  Hated the tightness in his chest.  Hated the lack of control over his emotions.  He was used to being measured in his responses, and now he was prone to react without thought.  It had slowly gotten better, and he hoped it would improve exponentially once he got home.  That thought was why he was so anxious for an answer.  It was why he had pleaded for his release.  He knew he needed it. 

Cas turned his head to look at Gabe.  “I feel trapped here, and it’s affecting my ability to heal.  Not to mention how this is affecting everyone else.  You practically live here.  And Sam…he has always had this persistent independent streak.  The need to forge his own path, even after Mary’s death it was there, but I see that slipping away now.”

“You don’t need to worry about me or Sam, especially Sam.  He is willful, determined, and wise beyond his years.  Being here with you is not curtailing who he is, it’s only adding more to his story.  And I get how you can feel trapped.  I guarantee I would have been a much worse patient.”

“I second that,” said Antonio as he stepped in the room.  “Might want to pick that up,” he added, gesturing at the camera.  By the time, Gabe had the camera rolling, Dr. Bevell and Naomi had entered the room.  Their expressions gave nothing away as usual.

Dr. Bevell spoke first.  “Castiel, we have some good news.  If all goes well with your physical therapy this afternoon, we will be releasing you tomorrow morning.”

“But,” added Naomi, “it is contingent upon your acceptance of the next phase.  Just because you are being released does not mean you are no longer a patient.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas retorted, “I know I am simply transitioning to outpatient status.”

“Yes, well, it is important that you understand the need to continue with your nutrition plan and your therapies.”

With a nod from Naomi, Dr. Bevell interjected, “And you will be returning for further surgery.  Some of which will require you to stay in the hospital.”  She raised her eyebrow at Cas, clearly waiting for his acknowledgement.  He nodded, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes again.  “Good, now, I have one last bit of good news.  Say goodbye to the boot.”

Cas couldn’t help but stare down at the monstrosity on his lower left leg.  The heft and weight of it had been a constant interference to his physical therapy and learning it would be gone added to the feeling of freedom.  It was the last of the constraints on his body.  The last piece hindering his mobility, his chance to walk again.  Tears of relief filled his eyes, but he refused to let them spill over with everyone in the room.  Naomi must have sensed his needs because she made a thinly veiled excuse, eliciting similar reactions from Dr. Bevell and Antonio.  Within seconds, they were gone, leaving Cas alone with Gabe.  “I…”  Cas looked at his friend and coworker.  “I need a moment.”

Gabe nodded.  “Yep, I’ll just go see…” His voice faded away as he walked out of the room. 

As the door shut, silence enveloped the room, and Cas let the tears flow freely.  Home.  It felt surreal and part of him waited for them to walk back in the room and tell him, “Sorry, we made a mistake.”  But it wasn’t Dr. Bevell or Naomi who disrupted his silence and his tears. 

“Cas, oh my God, what’s wrong?”

Lifting his head, streaks of tears on his face, Cas found Sam staring at him with open concern.  “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are you crying.”

Cas laughed, even as more tears slipped from his eyes.  “Because I am incapable of masking my emotions these days.”

Frowning Sam crossed the room and sat down on the couch.  “Okay, um…we’ll have to discuss that later, but for now tell me why you’re upset.”

“They’re sending me home.  Tomorrow.”

“Holy shit.  Really?”

Wiping his tears away, Cas said, “Yes.”

Sam smiled widely.  “I knew it.  Dean was being a pessimist, but I had a feeling.”  They sat quietly for several seconds, basking in the good news, but as usual Sam would not let Cas’s earlier comment go.  “You know masking your emotions is not healthy.”

“I know.”

“And it is part of the reason you’re still here.”

Cas ground his teeth together and gripped the arms of his chair.  “Sam,” he warned, but the younger man would not be deterred.

“You may not want to hear this, but you need to.  I know what you did.  I know because Gabe was consumed by guilt and blurted it out.  Hiding your nightmare and panic attack was foolish and dangerous.  If we had known you woke up screaming, begging not to be put in a vehicle, there is no way they would have let you try getting in a car the next day.”

A huge part of Cas wanted to argue and defend himself, but facts were hard to deny.  He was still in the hospital because of the severity and consequences of his panic attack that day.  Pinching his lips together, Cas turned his chair, purposefully avoiding Sam’s heavy gaze. 

“You can turn away and hide, but it’s not a solution.  And it’s not who you are, Cas.”

“Why does everyone keep reminding me of who I was?”

With sincerity and gravitas, Sam said, “Because that man is still here.  You are the strongest person I know.  Stubborn and tenacious.  And you may not see that right now, but we all do.”

Cas let the sentiment flow over him.  _Maybe_ , he conceded, there was some truth to Sam’s assessment.  But when fear and anxiety trumped his other emotions, he had a hard time seeing the man he used to be.  And maybe that was okay, and maybe that didn’t mean that part of him was lost.  Maybe it just wasn’t as easily accessible.  A small smile cracked his lips, and he nodded minutely.  A pleased sigh came from behind him.  Obviously, Cas’s body language had given Sam a glimpse of his thoughts. 

“Cas,” Sam said quietly, “I know you’re used to keeping your tears private, but it was never necessary to shield them from me or from Dean.  We’ve shed plenty over the years and more often than not you were the one who held us as we did.  I wish you didn’t feel the need to protect me all the time, but I understand why you do.  I don’t really remember my dad.  You’ve been in my life longer than he ever was and even before Mom passed you were there for me.  She relied on you in ways I didn’t understand until I got older.  I know you think it was the other way around, and that you blew in and out of our lives in those early years, but there was this calm when you were there.  Some intangible quality you brought into our lives.  I looked up to you.  I still do.”

“It’s funny.  The words you used to describe me.  Strong, tenacious, stubborn are all words I used to describe Mary.  I looked up to her.  I wanted to make her proud.”

“You did.  You do.”

Shaking his head, Cas said, “I’m not so sure of that.”

“Well, I-”  Sam stopped as the door swung open, and Dean marched into the room.  The rest of what Sam was going to say was lost in the brashness of Dean’s entry and his clear irritation at finding Sam and a tear-stained Cas huddled together deep in conversation. 

“What?” asked Dean as he scrutinized Cas and then Sam.  “What are you two up to?”

 “Hello, Dean.”

“Hello, Dean?  That’s what you’re going with.”

“Yes,” responded Cas with a smirk.  Dean’s disgruntled demeanor and his pout lightened Cas’s mood, lifting his spirits in the beat of a heart.  No one else could affect Cas in such a way, and once again he was struck by how lucky he was to love and be loved by the green-eyed man.  A smile quickly replaced the smirk, and Cas added, “I get to go home tomorrow.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open.  “Cas.”  His voice was filled with reverence.

“And that’s my cue,” said Sam, standing to leave. 

Without hesitation, Dean took Sam’s place on the couch.  “You’re sure.”

Shrugging, Cas said, “I think so.  They’re removing the boot, and after that all I have left is physical therapy today and then…”

“You get to come home.”

“I get to come home.”  Dean leaned forward and kissed Cas forcefully, swallowing his words, and Cas smiled at the contact.  Kissing and touching were not common through the whole of Cas’s life, but Dean seemed determined to change that fact.  His hands sought out Cas whenever they were close, and regardless of who was present, Dean would often kiss him for the smallest of reasons.  Cas asked once why he did, and Dean’s simple answer was, _Because I can now_.  “Are you happy?” Cas said as he pulled back to look at Dean.

“Fucking ecstatic.”

“Hard to tell from your reaction,” chuckled Cas.

“You’re an ass.”

Running his hand up Dean’s arm, Cas said, “So you’ve said.”

Dean leaned into the touch before reaching up and wiping at Cas’s cheek.  “Why the tears?”

“Just happy.”

“Good,” responded Dean as he brushed his lips across Cas’s cheeks. 

 

Cas had joined Dean on the couch, and they had curled into each other.  It was how Meg and Gabe found them an hour later.  “Aren’t you two just so adorable?  So cute I could pinch your cheeks.”

“Can it, Meg,” said Dean without any real heat.

“Are you sure about this one Cas?  He seems awful quick to temper.”

At Dean’s noticeable pout, Cas tipped his chin up and kissed his forehead.  “I have no doubts whatsoever.”

Meg shrugged her shoulders.  “Leaving no room for argument, Clarence,” she said before adding, “Shocking,” with overt sarcasm.  She walked over to the wheelchair and pushed it up next to Cas.  “Time to go.”

Cas shifted over to the chair, and the four of them headed down the hall to the therapy room.  Once inside Meg removed Cas’s boot, asking him to wiggle his toes and bend his ankle.  The muscles were sluggish, but ultimately, they responded.  The range of motion was still limited, but Cas couldn’t help smiling widely at the accomplishment.

“I know that look,” said Meg.  “But slow down.  There will be no leap out of that chair.  This is a process and you will follow it.  The orthopedist does not want you putting a lot of weight on that ankle right away.  There is a lot of strength training we need to do before we get to that stage.  Since you’ve managed to put weight on your right leg, and your strength and movement in that leg is significantly improved, for now, we are going to use this.”  Meg walked over and pulled out a small wheeled chair of sorts.  Cas recognized the design but had no idea what the contraption was called.  “It’s a knee scooter.  You will be using this in place of crutches, since the burns to your hand and left side would hinder their use.”  She looked at Cas and then at Dean.  “If all goes well, we might be able to let you lower your left leg for a moment by the end of this session.  Castiel, even if we don’t get there today, this right here is a huge step forward,” she stated as she gripped the handle of the knee scooter, positioning it in front of Cas.

Nerves radiated through his body, along with a surge of excitement.  His upper body had regained much of its strength due in large part to Meg and her brand of physical therapy, but his legs were taking longer to recover.  They no longer looked atrophied as some of his muscle tone had returned, but they were nowhere near their former size and definition, especially his left leg.  Inching forward in his chair with Meg and Dean on either side of his chair, spotting him, Cas prepared to stand. 

“You got this, Cas,” Dean said with a reassuring nod.

“I got this,” said Cas with more conviction than he felt at the moment.

Meg laid her hand in his forearm.  “It’s now or never, Clarence.”  As usual, his irritation at the nickname spurred him into action.  Slowly, he lifted himself from the chair.  “Hey, hey, keep this off the ground,” Meg said as she touched his left thigh.  With a conscious effort he managed to bend his left knee while simultaneously putting weight on his right leg and reaching for the handlebar of the scooter.  Dean and Meg supported him with steady hands.  He eased his way forward and rested his left leg on the bench seat.  By the time, he settled both hands on the scooter his breathing was ragged, and his body was overly fatigued.

“Shit, that was harder than I thought it would be.”

“You did great.”  Dean brushed his lips across Cas’s sweat covered temple.  “I’m so proud of you, Sunshine.”  When Cas looked over at Dean, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see his eyes glistening with tears.  Dean had always worn his emotions on his sleeve around Cas, and despite his best efforts over the last weeks to hide some of them, he more often than not revealed his true feelings.  Cas smiled knowingly at him.  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dean said, swiping at his eyes.  “Can’t help it.”

Breaking the emotional moment, Meg got back to business.  “How do you feel?  Any weakness or pain?”

“No pain, but my legs feel a bit shaky.”

“Okay, let’s try to ease some of that.  Put a little more of your weight on me.”  Cas leaned into Meg’s touch, feeling steadier at the contact.  “Now, rest and get your breathing back under control.”  Taking time to focus on his breathing, Cas regulated his breaths which seemed to further decrease the shaky feeling.  “Good, that’s good.  How are you feeling now?”

“Better.”

“Still no pain?”

“No pain.”

“And the weakness?”

Cas took time to assess his body.  “Some, mostly in the left leg, but not as bad as when I first stood.”

Meg nodded.  “We’ve barely scratched the surface of therapy on your left leg so that is no surprise.  How do you feel about taking a step forward?”

Looking over his shoulder, Cas stared at the wheelchair, nestled at the back of his right leg.  The safety and support it offered made him pause, made him question moving away from it.  “Cas.  Look at me,” pleaded Dean.  “Don’t think about it.  Meg is here.  I’m here.  We aren’t going to let you fall.  I won’t let you fall again.  I promise.”

Realizing his previous fall was clouding his thoughts, making him hesitate, Cas shoved the images aside and focused on the present.  The feel of the bench under his leg.  The solidity of the floor under his foot.  The touch of rubber under his hands.  The touch of Meg’s strong hand on his arm.  The warmth of Dean’s body pressed close to his side.  The man’s presence was what finally made him turn and say, “Okay, I’m ready.” 

It took considerable effort to lift his foot as he slid the chair forward.  The chair made contact with something and stopped.  Cas had been so focused on his own actions he hadn’t realized Meg had placed her foot strategically in front of a wheel. 

“Just making you sure you don’t take off on us,” Meg said in response to his questioning look.  “I know there are brakes, but I want you to just concentrate on your body.”  Before Cas could respond, his limbs started shaking.  “Yep, time to take a seat.  Dean grab his chair.” 

After removing his left leg from the scooter, Cas lowered himself into the wheelchair.  “I took a step.  Dean, I…”

Dean dropped down in front of him and cupped his face.  “Yeah, you did.”

Neither of the men noticed Meg had walked away until she returned with a towel and a cup of water.  Cas took the towel and wiped the sweat from his face and neck before drinking the water.  “How do you feel about another go?” asked Meg when he handed the cup back to her. 

When he hesitated, Dean said, “Come on Cas.  I know you can do more than that.”

With a little more coaxing from Dean, Cas repeated the process, adding a second step and then a third.  He was tired and sweating profusely, but he set a goal for himself.  _Make it to the bench.  Make it to the bench._   He calculated it was only three or four more steps depending on how far he could slide the chair on each step before Meg stopped it.  As he proceeded, he listened only to his mantra, tuning everything else out.  By the time he made it to the bench he had no idea what was said around him or how long it had taken him to get to his destination.  None of that mattered as he dropped onto the bench.  He had made it.  Meg and Dean were staring down at him with similar looks.  Shock, wonder, and pride.  “Well, that was a bit more than I expected,” said Meg after she tempered her look of surprise.

“No shit,” said Dean as he sat down next to Cas.  “You just kept going.  It was like Meg and I weren’t even here.”

Heat filled Cas’s cheeks as he smiled sheepishly.  “Oh, I…sorry.”

Dean grinned brightly.  “Don’t apologize for that.  You walked, Cas.  I mean, it took forever, but you walked all the way over here.”

“It took forever?” said Cas with some level of confusion.

Meg smacked Dean on the arm before addressing Cas.  “It did not take forever.  Dean is just impatient.”  Kneeling down in front of Cas, Meg started massaging the tired muscles in his right leg.  “You did great, Clarence, but next time maybe you could try and listen to me.”

“Of course, Meg.”  Cas sighed as her hands eased the fire in his calf.  When she was done with his calf, she worked on his thigh before moving to his left leg.  As she worked, Dean retrieved the towel and another cup of water.  “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Dean said to Cas before turning to Meg.  “What does this mean for his release?”

“Well, he will be released as scheduled.”

Cas leaned forward.  “And the scooter?”

“Stays here.  For now.”

“But-”

“No buts, Castiel.  This is a process, and we will not be skipping any steps.  You pushed yourself today and so tomorrow you may not even be able to get out of your chair.”

Cas could feel Dean’s body tense.  “What the hell, Meg.  Why didn’t you try harder to stop him?”

“Because he needed that.  You saw the look in his eyes.”

Dean nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Glad we can all agree on what I needed,” scoffed Cas.  “If you’re done talking about me, maybe we could finish this up.”

 

Cas went to bed with his muscles screaming at him, and he woke the same way.  Every part of his body ached as he tried to roll over away from the sunlight rudely streaming across his face.  “Ugh…” he groaned repeatedly.  A soft chuckle made him open his eyes.  Temporarily blinded by the sun, he quickly covered his face, grimacing in agony at the movement.  The chuckle grew deeper.  Lowering his hand and cracking one eye, Cas took in the sight of Dean, freshly showered, shaved and bright-eyed. 

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

“Says who,” huffed Cas.

Dean laughed out right.  “Man, you sound grumpier than usual.”

“Fuck,” Cas moaned when he managed to sit up slightly. 

“A little sore this morning.”

Cas stared at the ceiling, unwilling to look at Dean’s smiling face anymore.  “Yes, and you can quit being so damn chipper.  It’s excruciating.”

“Not a chance.  The love of my life happens to be getting out of the hospital, so this smile on my face and this sunshiny attitude are here to stay.”  Cas snapped his head down and gaped at Dean.  “Forgot that bit of information in your haze of moodiness.  Didn’t you?”  Dean reached over and took Cas’s hand.  The cheeky tone dropped away as Dean’s voice grew soft.  “Sam finished packing up the apartment and turned over the keys.  I got everything ready at home.  In our room.” 

“Our room.  That sounds nice.”

Dean squeezed Cas’s arm.  “And don’t worry I told Sammy no visitors for at least two days.  Except for Charlie of course.  She’s probably on her way her even as we speak.  She almost knocked me over when she heard the news.  So, yeah, there was no denying her entry.  But other than that, it will just be the three of us.”

A huge smile split Cas’s face, all thoughts of his aches and pains gone.  “I love you.”

“Love you, too.  But you know I didn’t just do that for you.  I want nothing more than to be alone with you.”  Dean’s cheeks flushed crimson, and he looked away.

“Is that what you want?” asked Cas, voice deep and gritty with sleep and desire.

“Yeah, you know it is.  I’m tired of getting interrupted.”  Dean faced Cas and paused, mouth agape.  “I don’t mean we have to do that right away.  I just…”

Cas covered Dean’s hand with his own.  “Shh…I understand.  I want to be alone with you, too.  But I think that will have to wait,” Cas said as he heard the sound of Charlie’s voice outside his door.  “It appears we’re about to get company.”  Cas hadn’t even finished speaking when Charlie burst through the door with Sam, Gabe, and Antonio in tow. 

“Let’s get this show on the road.  This man is going home.”  Charlie pointed at Cas as she closed the distance between them.  “Hey, best friend, ready to blow this popsicle stand.” 

Nodding, Cas pulled Charlie into a hug.  “That I am.”

Antonio stepped into Cas’s line of sight.  “Dr. Bevell will be here in about fifteen minutes.  I’m going to go over some of your discharge papers until she gets here.  All your upcoming appointments are set.  Dean already has a copy since he’s been here for hours already.” 

Cas eyed Dean, and the man shrugged and nodded.  “What can I say?  I was excited.”

After that, everyone remained silent except for the occasional question as Antonio spoke.  Just as he was finishing up discussing Cas’s dietary needs, Dr. Bevell entered the room.  Her visit was short and sweet, and ended with her cracking a smile and making an unexpected joke.  “It appears the Toni and Tony show is at an end.  But rest assured we are always ready and willing to torture if you break the rules.”

“Good one, Doc,” said Dean as he laughed heartily.  Sam joined in, and everyone else soon followed. 

“All right, all right,” said Dr. Bevell, waving off the laughter.  “I’ll see you soon, Castiel.”  From there it was a blur of activity and before Cas knew it, he was in the Impala speeding down the highway.  He watched Dean drive, happy for this simple, familiar moment.  When they pulled up to the house, Cas could barely contain himself while he waited for his wheelchair.  Despite his aching muscles, he was more than ready to wheel himself into the house.  Shunning help, he heaved himself into his chair and made his way into the house.  An overwhelming sense of peace filled him as soon as he crossed the threshold.  He was home. 


End file.
